It’s Thursday. Month unknown. Date unknown. Time, yet again unknown. Where am I? How long have I been here? Where is everyone? Am I still me?

From what I can remember, I have been here for a very long time. Helpful right. Ha! Ugh. Why can’t I remember? The clear memories sit in my brain, waiting to be recovered, like me. Thinking back I can picture, ugh…. Nothing. Where am I? I clambered up and staggered to the nearest tree, I was on a desert, alone. I once again scratched a line into the bark; I counted 150 lines and a few doodles. This became a habit for me, sunrise; mark the tree, sunset; mark the tree. If I’m right then I’ve been here for 75 days? 2 months and 15 days…. WOW. I haven’t eaten for a while and have been sleeping in a makeshift tent made from leaves and branches. I daren’t go into the forest that sits behind me, who knows what lies in wait? Lions? Spiders? A native tribe? Don’t be stupid, if there were surely they would have killed me by now. Ugh. If someone doesn’t kill me soon, I swear I’ll do it myself.

I sat facing the skyscraper tall trees, swaying in the salty breeze. The azure blue ocean engulfed the sand and enslaved it under it’s watery prison before coming back for more. I turned and faced the sea, looking out onto nothing. Beautiful. Peaceful. Lonely. A rustling came from behind me, in a second I was up on my feet with my weapon of choice in my hand, a stick. What was I thinking? What was a stick going to do? Stupidly I walked towards the leaf crunching noise. You know, like in a Horror film, ‘Don’t go towards the creepy noise’ well, I did. Stupid. I brushed back the first leaf that lead to the darkened path of inside. Unfortunately I had moved two and one of then tripped me as I walked past. Ow! I had broken my stick. Great. I don’t see why I was so bothered as I was surrounded by lots more, but I think I had secretly formed a strong bond with this particular one. I kept it. I placed my hand into my pocket and pulled out a piece of string and tied it around one end of the stick and then again to the other. A Makeshift nunchaku. I think the heat got to me as I swung them around my head making weird noises. God help me. The stick hit me, by then I had decided to place them into my pocket, as I now knew how much damage a stick could do. I walked slowly further and further through the leaves, with a purpley-blue bruise forming on my head. I stopped. I heard the rustling again. It came from not far in front of me. My stupid decisions carried on and I ran towards an opening in the braches. As I got closer, a light shone brighter and brighter into my eyes. What was it? I kept running and running towards the light when suddenly, BANG! My head hit something hard, I fell to the ground, unconscious.

There was something poking at my head that woke me. I opened my eyes to find what looked like to be a monkey of some kind. I screamed, the monkey screamed, the monkey ran away, I was once again alone. I helped myself up and hit my head again. OH MY GOD! I stood up and staggered away from the mysterious hard thing and rubbed my head. A reflection blinded my eyes and I picked up what looked to be a piece of paper to block the light. I suddenly dropped the paper and backed away in shock, it read Pan Am: Flight 234 from Puerto Rico to Miami, 1st of June 1968. Without hesitating I ran back through the trees until I reached the beach again. I collapsed to my knees. Panting. I knelt there, confused and lost. What had I just seen?

I rummaged through my eye piercingly bright yellow and green backpack and found a pencil and paper, which had a border that looked to be like clones of smiling toast. I began to list everything that I had seen and know that might help with whatever is going on: A plane ticket from 1968 going from Puerto Rice to Miami. My hometown, Miami. The date I last remember: 2010. I sat staring at the notes, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a book lying besides my backpack. It must have fallen out when I got the paper and pen. I slowly stood up, placing the paper on the ground and the pen above my ear, classy, and walked over to the book. It read: The Bermuda Triangle, All You Need To Know. Suddenly everything came rushing back; I remember boarding a plane, heading home to Miami. Me, my family, everyone. We were all there, what happened? The Bermuda Triangle, sometimes called the Devil's Triangle, is reputedly an area in the western part of the North Atlantic Ocean. The triangle doesn't exist according to the US Navy and is not recognized by the US Board on Geographic Names. However, a number of aircraft and surface vessels are said to have disappeared in the triangle under unknown circumstances. Popular culture has attributed various disappearances to the paranormal or activity by extraterrestrial beings. Is it true? I lay the book on the sand beside me and slowly lowered my back to the ground, I placed my hands behind my head and looked up at the midnight sky.

Alice blue tears ran down my face, like raindrops falling from the ash grey cloud that once was white. I was remembering the past. Happiness. Laughter. People. Where was everyone? Why am I alone? Surely if we were all on the plane together, we would all be on the island? I sat up, light bulb moment and smiled as I imagined a bright yellow bulb sitting above my head. I crawled over to the paper and went to pull the pencil from behind my ear, it had gone. Oh! So many thoughts, nothing to write them down with. I frantically turned back and forth, some how hoping this would help find my pencil. SNAP! My eyes widened. What was that? I slowly lifted my foot to find what looked like a wooden battlefield. I stared at the broken limbs of tiny graphite and picked up one of it’s severed parts. I began to draw a doodle of the plane, mentally counting people and adding unneeded luggage to my work of art. It was only a small plane, could carry about forty or fifty people. The allotrope of carbon pinged out of my fingers and buried itself deep within the grainy deep. I give up. The sun began to rise and my eyes began to droop. I couldn’t stay awake any longer, but all I could think about was that in the jungle behind me was my family.

My arm gave way and my body hit the sandy ground, soon followed by my head. I couldn’t get up, too tired to move. I lay there. My eyes began to close, slowly shutting out the loneliness in front of me. I woke suddenly by a chill that ran down my spine, it was still light. I stood up and staggered over to my backpack and shoved everything, including about a tonne of sand, into it. I swung the bag upon my back, fell back a little and was off. Once again I headed towards the forest that stood before me, pushing back the leaves to reveal a pathway, following my previous footsteps, trying carefully to step directly on them. After minutes of walking I came to an opening. I climbed over the branches and stood in the pathway of a gigantic metal beast. The aeroplane. From here I had no idea where to go, right, left, forward? I looked around to catch a glimpse of a door. I placed my bag carefully on the ground and cautiously headed towards the plane. I pulled open the door and placed one foot after another onto the carpeted floor and stepped away from the outside. I once again heard the rustling. I sharply spun around to see a mysterious figure slam shut the door. I was grabbed from behind, hand over my mouth.

I shot up, panting and tears of sweat running down my face. I fell over and landed on what seem to be something wooden, I sprung to my feet, alert and ready to fight whatever came my way. Suddenly a door flung open and in ran my dog. I was confused. What was going on? My sister walked past the open door and told me I was going to be late for school, it all came to me, it was just a dream. I walked towards the door and out of the corner of my eye I saw a bag, it was hiding inside a darkened closet, I turned and slowly walked over to the doors and knelt beside the bag. I carefully pulled the zip and revealed the contents: a broken pencil, paper with a smiling toast boarder, covered in writing and a doodle of a plane and buried beneath the tonne of sand was a plane ticket reading: Flight 234 from Puerto Rico to Miami, 1st of June, 2010.