Survive

Ten

It had been a week since I left the group. I haven't seen any sign of the natives on the island since my last encounter. So far, I've made a stable shelter, a good fire pit, and some tools for hunting and building. I haven't seen hair or hide of Cole or Mason, and I thank God for that, if he's there. I had a home away from home here.
When I went to the water to clean up, I was sure to move subtly around my wounds. They still hurt immensely, but we're healing nicely. For a while, I just stared at my reflection. I looked so different. Not only was I distorted from the ripples of small waves, but my face looked like a strangers. My eyes were sunken and grief ridden, my cheeks drooped over my face rather than sat supplely. I was pale, I used to have a natural red glow in my cheeks, but not anymore. I looked older. Like my mother, but I was only 17. To think the island changed me that much in such little time.
For a while, I sat in the water in silence. I listened to the waves, the seagulls, and I felt at peace. I closed my eyes and felt the force of the water on my calves, my arms, my stomach, I relaxed. Maybe I should just accept that this was our life from now on, my life anyway. It would be impossible to cross an entire ocean in a canoe. What food would I eat? What would protect me from the sun? What would I drink? Who would I talk to? Where would I sleep, or go to the bathroom? There were too many questions, but it seemed like the only thing I could do. So I got to work.
On the shore, I gathered drift wood, palm tree leaves, and some reeds I found along the shore. I spent days laboring over the canoe, testing it on rough waters, making adjustments for comfort, and necessity. It was small, with a canopy and designated bathroom at one end. Now, all that was left to do was gather food.
I took all the supplies I had at my camp and loaded them in my boat. There was something more important I had to do.
Every step was like walking through molasses. But I had to tell them what I was doing. They couldn't come, they wouldn't be able to, I only made enough for one. It had to be done. I was at the camp in a matter of minutes, and swallowed the pill of my pride. But, to my surprise (and relief) they weren't there. They must have gone hunting, because the fire was just put out. I didn't want to stick around for long, so I did what I thought was best. I wrote a note in the sand:
Cole and Mason-
I'm ok, but I have an important message for you. I made myself a canoe, and packed supplies. I'm leaving this island. I can't take you with me, but I want you to know, I'm free.
   -Willow
And like that, I was gone, on the ocean, in my canoe. I couldn't help but watch the island shrink into a spec on the horizon as I drifted away. I had to blink away tears several times. Tears of joy, sadness, and relief. I was done. This hell was over. I faced the sun in my boat, and sailed to the horizon.

It was a total of three weeks before I found land. I ended up on the shore of Baja, Mexico. I couldn't speak Spanish, but found people who could speak English. Eventually, they helped get me home. I was home. With my family. This was it. No more island, no more Cole, no more Mason. I did it.