Days Stranded on Island: 1

Night

So, not to alarm anyone and not to sound all X-Files-y, but we are so totally not alone. There I was sitting on the beach, pouring my heart out in a cathartic journaling session when all hell broke loose in the jungle.

It all began as a distant rustling of bamboo and leaves, but as it got closer it sounded like hell itself was tearing through the jungle. And then 'it' screamed. A blood curdling sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and scream, "What the FUCK was that!"

It moved with lightening speed, ripping through the dense jungle, shaking the massive trees. I wasn't aware that practically all the survivors were around me until I heard the pregnant girl say, "Did anybody see that?" (Oh my God, can you imagine being pregnant on an island. The heat, the sand. Ugh, I'm so glad I'm not pregnant). We stood together on the beach, trying to see whatever was out there until the noises faded and the night was silent again. The island was calm once more, but my heart was still pounding in my chest.

As people began to settle down on the beach, the night crackled with anxious tension. No one was sleeping anytime soon, especially not me.

I wandered through the wreckage, overhearing snippets of conversations. Everyone had a theory about It. I even heard one guy mention it could have been monkeys. Monkeys! Unless we've landed on the freaking Planet of the Apes, I don't think that 'Gigantor' was a monkey.

I stopped and looked out at the rippling ocean. I found a small bit of serenity listening to the waves lap at the beach. I marveled that somewhere out there life was going on as normal. Here I was at the edge of civilization and somewhere out there someone is buying orange juice like nothing is wrong. I wondered if my father has even been told yet. I'm sure Lila, the Mistress of all that is Evil and Pastel wouldn't shed a tear. Now she won't have to worry about splitting my father's money when he goes.

I suddenly felt someone stop beside me and looked up to see the guy who had been helping that poor man with the shrapnel through his stomach standing next to me. A doctor I heard someone say. He stared out at the water and seemed to be thinking the same thing as I was. "I can't believe the rescue boats aren't here yet," I said conversationally. He gave me a tight smile and looked over at me. "They'll be here," he said in a reassuring, yet forced manner. "Sooner or later." I smirked and said, "Personally, after that little incident in the jungle, I'd prefer sooner." He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, me too."

"So, you're a doctor, right?" I asked, curiously. He nodded. "Spinal surgeon." I smirked and said, "You could be a dermatologist right now and I think everyone would bow down at your feet. Something about those three little letters makes everyone feel a little less like we're all going to die." He laughed and I instantly liked him. I'm such a whore when it comes to people laughing at my jokes. Someone could be a raging lunatic or a serial killer, but if they get my sense of humor, they're alright by me.

"So, I just have to ask, after-" I waved my hand towards the jungle, referring to the thing earlier. "Jurassic Park: Fact or fiction?" He laughed and glanced over at me. "I'm pretty sure it was fiction."

"Sure. Right. I knew that. Just…making sure. 'Cause that was…intense," I said looking back into the jungle. He sighed and frowned, worriedly and suddenly I knew this was the guy, the one to stick with. Even if he wasn't a doctor, I probably wouldn't die around him. He had that 'I'll take care of everything' aura about him. God, I sound like my mother.

"I'm Gwen, by the way," I offered, happy to have someone to connect with right now. "Jack," he replied easily. We talked for a while, standing there on the beach. He told me about the guy with the shrapnel through his chest and some girl named Kate. In the morning, she and Jack were going to find the front of the plane which hopefully held the plane transceiver morning to try and contact…well, anyone. We went our separate ways and I felt a little more at ease, knowing someone was taking a pro-active approach to our castaway status.

Now, I'm back on my little corner of the beach, I guess you could call it. I don't even know what time it is right now. My watch broke in the crash. I suppose I could take a watch off one of the dead bodies, but…that's gross. Is it considered grave robbing if they're not in the ground?

Okay…never in my life did I think I would have to ask that question.

It's funny; I keep finding myself clutching the necklace Aunt Sarah gave me in Sydney. The one mom had given to her before she died 20 years ago, before my life had been ripped apart. The covellite is cold in my hand and the dark stone glints in the moonlight, but for a moment I feel closer to my mother, like she's watching over me.

A loud bird is cawing from the jungle which would usually drive me nuts, but the water is making me sleepy so I'm off to the patch of sand I call a bed. Hopefully, tomorrow I'll be writing from a rescue boat and on my way to a long, hot shower.

P.S. Oh my God, I almost forgot: There's a guy here that looks exactly like that guy from the band Driveshaft. Weird.