personal, school, writing

Throwback Thursday: Seventh Grade Deserted Island Story

Every once in a while, on a Thursday, I post an old school assignment that I have written as a “throwback thursday” type thing when I have an assignment I’ve found that seems interesting enough to post. This time, I have a project from the seventh grade, were we have to write a story in journal entries as if we had been stranded on a deserted Island because we had been reading The Lord of the Flies in class that year.


Survival Guide to a Deserted Island

(Or how a horrible cliché became my life)

Day 1:

You know how on the first day of kindergarden the teacher asks what you would want to have if you ever got trapped on a deserted island? You know how everyone says things like ice cream and video games because since it’s a bunch of five year olds no one takes it seriously? Well I take that back, all I want is to go home. And maybe some food that’s edible that’s not liable to poison me… Because honestly? When your teacher asks that you don’t think it’s really going to happen. But it did, to me. We (my best friend, Nella, my parents, and me) were going on vacation for my 13th birthday, of course the plane had to crash land Nella and me in the middle of nowhere! This island doesn’t even look like anyone’s been here since the continental drift… I don’t even see any wreckage, but trust me, waking up soaking wet in the sand with a pounding headache with your best friend passed out next to you is not fun. I’m going to go find some food and water not contaminated with salt with Nella… I’m talking to a notebook, I’ve been here a day and I’m already losing it!


Day 5:


We’ve been here a few days and we’ve gotten a few things figured out by now. The island is pretty small and almost an oval in shape from what we can tell. One side is mostly steep cliffs that drop off into the ocean; the other has some shallow stretch of beach with lots of sea creatures. Also, most of this place seems to be entirely covered in green; trees, moss, vines… I’d call it Forks but I’m pretty sure there are no vampires and we are not in Washington… Other then nearly getting eaten alive by bugs and spiders, we’ve faired pretty well. We found this lake a little ways into the forest for fresh water. We’ve been living off fish (I actually remembered vaguely how to fish from when my grandpa took me when I was younger) and some fruit we recognized as bananas and coconuts. We figured out pretty quick it got freezing cold at night so we made a fire with a shard of glass from the wreckage. And let me tell you, it’s not too easy! We must have burned ourselves more then the wood! I really hope we get off this forsaken island soon. Nella’s just freaking out from boredom… But she’s handling the situation well all things considered… I had a mini-panic attack that first day and she more or less slapped me out of it… I hate this forsaken island…


Day 7:


Oh My God! I don’t think we’re the only ones here! Last night while we were getting our beds ready (moss wrapped in leaves {pillows} and well, leaves {blanket}) this rabid furry thing jumped out of the trees at us. It was too dark to see what it was, even with our little fire we made (which is really hard to do with rained soaked wood). It left a huge bloody gash in Nella’s face, from her nose down to her jawbone. Thankfully it wasn’t too deep; we washed it out with salt water to fight the infection (if there was one, we couldn’t tell). The whatever-it-was attacked me too. It bit me! Right above my shoulder blade I have a bite mark and claw marks going done to my elbow. Which I can’t feel right now because Nella wrapped leaves so tight around it I think it’s constricting blood flow…either that or it’s a side effect of whatever venom the thing had in it’s teeth… I prefer to stick with the first option. At least it was my right arm, I’m a lefty. The thing only ran away because we screamed so loud we scared it… Nella scared her self-silly afterwards by talking about how it could have been a mutation from The Hunger Games, So now she’s freaking herself out even more and I think I’m in shock… I hear that happens to you when you go though a traumatic experience…and if this doesn’t qualify I don’t know what does.



Day 9:


We went exploring today. After getting some water from the lake we went through the forest, careful to stay on this sort of path made by those feral things that attacked us a few days ago. We ended up finding the mountain that we could see from our camp, turns out it’s a cliff. It was easily 100 and something ft. Think a bit bigger then the drop on Jurassic Park at Islands of Adventure but about 50x as dangerous with the jagged rocks, slippery ledges, and hidden bug nests. Then Nella got this brilliant (note the sarcasm) idea to climb the cliff to see if there was any other land near by. In essence, it’s a good idea but given the fact she fails at rock climbing at the fair and I have a horrible clumsiness track record as well as a fear of heights… Well it would be a miracle if we didn’t give ourselves concussions left alone impale ourselves… But something about having your life depend on it makes you get real good, real fast. That, and actual foot and hand holds work a lot better then colored pieces of plastic bolted in to the vertical wall were as the cliff was angled. I took us what I would guess about 4-5 hours to climb but we went as bad off as I would have thought. We spent the night up there, too tired to climb back down before we looked around but the darkness didn’t help with that…

Day 10:


When we woke up, Nella and I were both covered in dirt and sweat. She had shallow scrapes at the base of each palm and a rapidly purpling bruise on her left cheek but other then some cuts from stuck out edges of the rocks she was mostly just filthy. I on the other hand was much worse, but I’ve been able to trip over air and up the stairs and still be able to get bruises and scratches on multiple places of my body so it’s really no surprise. It’s a miracle I didn’t break my neck. I had a gigantic scrape on my right leg from knee to ankle (don’t ask, really. My stupidity and clumsiness with only annoy you), my chewed up shoulder was one big bruise and my hands were so covered in blood, scratches and dirt I couldn’t tell if I even had any skin left… But we both just laughed at how ridiculous each other looked, high on adrenalin from being so far off the ground. Nothing like being a hundred feet off the ground to get your blood pumping right? And I’m using sarcasm on a journal…maybe I did hit my head after all… From our vantage point we could tell immediately that there was nothing else within miles of us. The only thing we could see was miles and miles of glittering blue ocean, I just said the ocean glittered…Something is wrong with me. It wasn’t even blue! It was murky greenish-blue but the sun reflected off it nicely. But back to the point, there would be no help coming. That we could be sure of…


Day 14:

It has been officially two weeks since we landed here and we have little hope of every leaving if they haven’t found us yet. They probably are planning our funerals already…and yes I know it’s depressing but I’ve been on an island for two weeks and have no clue where my family is or even if their still alive, what am I supposed to be? Cheerful? I don’t think so… There is mediocre bit good news though, Nella found her cell phone in the wreckage. It still had battery but no signal, even if it did what would we say anyways, “Hi mom, I’m on a deserted island in the middle of who knows where. Can you come get us?” Yes, very helpful. Maybe the GPS still works though, so they can find us. But I’m not going to get my hopes up; I’m not a masochist in that or any other way.


Day 15:

You’ll never guess what happened! Nella’s cell phone started beeping like a tracking signal. A few hours later, we saw something. Turns out, when she fished out her phone and turned it on, the police latched on to the signal and were able to send a helicopter with our moms and a few medics to us, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Our moms freaked out and tried to hug to death, then started screaming that we needed to get to the hospital before we dropped dead where we stood, as if. This is even the worst we’ve looked since we got here. Though we both vaguely thought we were imagining this, we agreed on one thing if nothing else, emergency room could wait. We need cheeseburgers and milkshakes from McDonald’s first.

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