Aug. 1, 1891
My journey began today. The ship set forth at about noon. The crewmen say that my trip is futile. They say they fear for me. I say they are superstitious idiots. I will be perfectly safe. My only dangers are Los Jurcanes and starvation. Both of which I have accounted for. I will once and for all prove these silly childrens stories wrong.
Aug. 3, 1891
The crewmen's ghost stories continue, but do not frighten me. One of them told me that of all those who have ventured this journey, no one has ever returned. I refused to be scared away by mere fairytales equivalent to that of el Chupacabra, el Coco, or even la Llorona, silly superstitions that have no bearing on reality. These men are fools to believe such nonsense.
Aug. 7, 1891
At last, I have landed on the island. La Isla de los Muertos. It makes me laugh that such a name has been applied to an island that is so rich with resources. I see nothing dead about this island aside from the dilapidated huts. The ship will be back in a week. That should give me plenty of time to discover this islands nature. I will set up my camp on the beach and further explore the island in the morning.
*****Thanks for reading!******
YOU ARE READING
Selections from the Diary of Ernando de la Vida
Gizem / GerilimThis is just a story that I randomly thought of and I decided to share it. It's very different from my normal types of stories, but I hope you all enjoy!
