My eyes flutter open.
"Where am I?" I voiced to no avail.
No sight of human interaction.
The harsh sunlight was beating down on my face. I audibaly groan as I start to sit up. Through my weary eyes, I can spot a range of washed-up materials on this golden beach.
After swivelling my cranium I glance around again. Thick verdant trees stand tall like castle walls. Sharp bushes protrude from the scorched ground encircling the jungle.
"It seems I have floated onto the shore..."
Once again, nothing responded to my words.
As I try to recall the events of last night, my mind winces. I don't know how or why I am here... But for all I know, it could be part of the exam.
Though that explanation does not seem plausible.
Post gathering my thoughts, I rised up. If I want to win, I have to survive. My current situation is similar to a novel I once read. William Golding's 1954 novel was titled 'Lord of the Flies' and tells the tale of a group of young British boys who were stranded on a deserted island.
There's a magnitude of different theories based upon the hypothetical of isolated survival. Some state the importance of comradery, whilst others praise the significance of solitude.
Deciding I had wasted enough time, I focused on uncovering a route into the greenery. After minimal accentuation, I found my ticket.
Conservatively, I pushed forward. The direct sunlight was banished due to the plentiful variety of leaves above my head. It was refreshing.
Every few metres, I carve out arrows on the nearby bark to indicate my exit. Currently, I have a handful of tasks to accomplish; locate drinking water, a source of calories, and a position to set up camp.
An ideal location would be situated near a river or stream, with bountiful berry bushes alongside it. Realistically speaking, any source of water could be manageable if I can acquire utensils to distill the water and purify it.
Despite my situation, I kept stalling to admire the scenic view. It's my first time being in such a lush and beautiful forest. There was a plethora of insects scurrying around. Some were resting on the tree trunks, whilst others danced along the dirt path.
I continued strolling deeper into the dense forest, whilst analysing my situation.
My mouth is as dry as the Sahara Desert, and i'm beginning to experience symptoms such as fatigue and minor dizziness. The hair atop my scalp seems brittle and withered, all whilst being clad in my damaged shorts and shirt.
Nevertheless, I pursued.
I'm not sure how long it's been since i last chugged some water... But from the sun's position prior to entering the forest - it's roughly 1pm; I've got a few hours of daylight still.
I've been acutely marking my path but I wonder when it'll come in handy.
"That sound.." I gulped in suprise.
I searched closer to the source. The closer i got, the louder it sounded. Then finally...
Rushing water was splashing about as clear as day. I was close, yet so far. Stood between me and paradise was a ominous valley roughly 3 metres wide.
The task was simple. Either go over or around the obstruction.
In 1991, Athlete Mike Powell achieved the world record long jump with the score of 8.95m. Put it simply, I have to leap one third of his record in order to reach utopia.
