A/N: this was written for an assignment a few years ago, we had to write a few journal entries by a teenager who had survived a plane crash and was left on a deserted island... not sure if there will be any interest in this, but I figured it couldn't hurt to post it. Each chapter is a journal entry... Enjoy!
The Little Bird Has Crashed
The silence of the water overtook everything; every sound, every thought and every dream. It took the life right out of our world, leaving me in complete emptiness. I could not hear the waves of screams, nor could I hear the burning flames on the peaceful water. All that could be heard was silence, and all that could be seen was a blur. I was blinded by a large, wet, blue mass, one which surrounded every inch of my body and my soul. I was completely consumed by it – I felt like a lifeless piece of paper swaying in the wind. I had no fear, no sadness – I had no emotions to speak of. Silence. That's all there was... Or at least that's how it began. Now all I hear is noise. They're always fighting, always talking, and at night, the animals, the wind and the fire make their own noise. It's inescapable. I wish I could... Sometimes I wish I could just go back... Back to that place of silence and emptiness. Originally, I'd thought I was glad to be out of it, but now... Sometimes I just miss it, I miss the silence. I miss the personal space, the emptiness. It was clean and relaxing. It did not allow screams or fear or hate or anything – It was perfect.
We've been stranded here for what seems like forever. I still find it hard to believe, I mean, did it really happen? How do I know this isn't just a dream, a horrible, horrible dream? How do I know? Will I ever know? I've pinched myself many times, hoping it might wake me from this reverie, but it hasn't worked yet. In fact, I've done more than pinch myself; I've fallen, I've cried, I've mourned, I've torn my skin on rocks and sand and seashells, I've even been chased by wild animals. But I haven't woken up. I suppose this means that it isn't just a dream. I guess it goes without saying that this is real, that this is really happening, but I just can't shake the thought – the hope that it's all just a dream. Sleeping or not, one thing is for sure, this is a nightmare.
I should be crazy right now. I should be running around like a maniac, screaming for help, pulling my hair, beating people, throwing things. I should be frantically asking what do we do? What do we do? But I'm not. I feel rather calm actually, like a bird soaring through the sky; the problem is, unlike a bird, I'm down here on a desert island, in the middle of god-knows-where, after surviving a plane crash. I doubt that little bird I see flying up in the clear blue sky is going to crash, and even if it did, I doubt it would survive the crash. And what if it did survive the crash? What would the other birds think? They'd make fun of him for sure, birds don't crash. Ha ha ha, look at that silly little bird, look how he crashed, it was like wooosh, splat, look at that, he crashed into the ground, and he had the nerve to get back up afterwards? You would think he'd be too ashamed to show his face ever again, you would think he would have died! I'm sure they'd taunt him like that, make him wish he were dead – kind of like how I feel right now, I wish I hadn't survived, I would have been better off. Birds aren't like humans, but then again, maybe they are, how do we know? Maybe they are. I think I've gone way off topic, but that's just me, little things in this world make me wonder, they make me think of other little things, and those little things make me think of other things, and in the end, I'm somewhere else completely. I think I finally understand Lorelai Gilmore, I think I understand what she meant when she said that her mind was a jungle, because mine is too.
If it hadn't been for the discovery of the abandoned camp, I probably would have gone insane. We found some food and supplies there... Not to mention a few rotting corpses... and this notebook. I think this notebook is what's keeping me sane, and I'm glad I have it.