Dear Darcy,

We don't talk much about ourselves, huh. Makes sense why not, there's no reason to, and it's kind of a sensitive subject. Especially for you, growing up without a Dad.

But regardless, you know about my mother and father, but one thing I never told you, is that I have a little brother. His name's William, he's seven years old, and he looks up to me like some kind of hero. He cried when I left to go to sea, but I promised to come back one day, and take him with me.

I feel like I've failed him.

If I die, here on this island, who will tell them? Little Will' spend the rest of his life with the mystery of what happened to his big brother.

I think I'm slowly going crazy.

Have you any idea how many times I've thought I saw you running across the sand? But it was just an illusion. My mind playing tricks on me.

Wishful thinking.

Anyway, I'll leave now. I don't think I'll write to you anymore, being marooned on an island doesn't give me much to write about.

If I never see you again, I just want to say thanks. For being my best friend.

I miss you