One Million Tiny Things

A message in a bottle

Dear Somebody,
HELP!

Mum and Dad had the awesome idea of a family trip when Gracie came home from college. Two weeks later, we're all stranded in a small island which we were visiting after our boat capsized. No Internet, no chocolate and no parties. I think I'm dying here.

I need my phone. Josh probably texted me back about our date to be. Do you have any idea how long I waited for his reply. A week. An entire week. But now, when I'm stuck at god knows where with nothing to do, the universe takes away my ability to receive messages. How dare it. I know you can't see me but I'm shaking my fist at the sky and muttering profanities.

I don't care if you're a serial murderer, a lonely high schooler, a lovesick teenager, two honeymooners, just get me out of this hell-hole. And don't worry, you don't have to save my family too. They got me into this mess, they can climb themselves out of it. Imagine me crossing me arms and snootily looking towards the horizon.

That brings me to why I'm writing a letter to a stranger. Well, no Internet as I previously mentioned which means no messages, no Instagram, no twitter, nothing, zip, zilch. There's no signal anywhere around this desolate place to give anyone a call. Dad suggested me climbing a tree and trying to get bars. But please, I'm not a monkey, can you imagine me of all people hanging from a tree waving my arms about and screeching for help into my cell phone. I shudder to think about it. I know you don't know me but I think this is a little clue.
I ain't no tropical Tarzan.

My family surprisingly doesn't seem to mind. My parents have got what they refer to as a well deserved break from work (mmhmm you mean civilization) and they deserve to put up their legs and relax in the tropical sun. I'm waiting till a coconut falls onto them, they'll see tropical all right. They seem to be in no rush to get home and trust that it will all work out. They think that the authorities will show up and take us home in a rescue boat. Yeah, because authorities care about a family of nobodies. Mental, I tell you, mental.

But when talking about lunatics, we can't forget my sister Gracie. She was like my annoying best friend who couldn't stand me. Do you have a sibling? If you do then you understand the love-hate relationship. If you don't, imagine what you'll get when you put Harry and Voldermort in the same house. A path of destruction. But, apparently even the Dark Lord misses Potter when he is away at college. All I got were stupid hugs and I miss yous from the time we got home. This is how are conversations used for go,

"You want to make the roof into a slide?"

"Hell yeah, mum and dad would get so pissed off"

Now, it's something like this

"You want to go throw snowballs at the neighbours?"

"Oh my god, I missed your little threats so much. Come here, gimme a hug."

Yuck!

So, I had to take extreme measures. I snuck out of our tent in the middle of the night and stole some paper and a pen from my dear sister and sat near the beach writing.

Whoever you are, save me before it's too late. Before, I turn to a mad chirping cuckoo who's lost their marbles. It's slowly happening ro the rest of my family members, isn't it.

So, please, I'm begging you, do not just throw this message in a bottle back out to sea. Come with a rescue team and some psychiatrists to help us all go back to normal.

With love,
Debbie