Dear Diary,I did not land in Sydney, Australia, after all. I am alone on an island close to Australia. I don’t even know where I am. The plane crashed into the sea and after hours on a raft I ended up here, all alone, I think. I am fine, only a few bruises and scratches. I must have been lucky.I have to build a shelter here and find food and water. All I have is this diary and tons of thoughts. Thoughts about how my family is doing at home, I think of my little son playing in the garden with his football and a big smile upon his face. And my little daughter playing with her Barbie dolls. I should never have been on that plane. I will do all to survive this, I want to see my family again.
Dear diaryI have been here for eight days now, actually it’s a really beautiful island. I found some water near a waterfall, and I found some berries I the forest. I still think I’m the only one on the island, but I have made a friend to myself. He is made out of a coconut, so he doesn’t speak very often. I’ve called him Little John because he looks like a John to me. I found out that the worst think is to be lonely, I have already been thinking of committing suicide, but I live in the hope that I someday will see my family again. I’ve made myself a dagger out of wood and stone, and I’m planning to build a sailboat, I still don’t know how. Every morning I write help in the sand in the hope of that somebody will see it. And every evening I beg to god, some days I can beg in hours with my hands fold and tears in my eyes, but I must just carry on, I won’t give up before I’m home that’s what I tell myself every day.
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