What is this…

I grabbed the bottle with shaking hands. A dark brown, covered in light sand and seaweed. I bend my burnt arms into the glistening open ocean and wipe the sand away, revealing something inside.

I never knew that this kind of thing actually happened, I have only ever seen it in movies…

Though soaking wet, I use my shirt to wrap the bottle, carefully folding it around the curves and edges of the glass. Crash. I dropped the nearest rock over my discovery. Excitedly, I bend on my sore knees and moved the rock to see my discovery.

A stupid love letter. What. The. Hell. Why would I think that this stupid bottle would help me get off of this damn island? I don’t even remember how long its been. Maybe 3 weeks? Or was it 3 months? I don't even know anymore.

More sh*t to make a fire, I guess.

I grab the biggest shard of broken glass I could find, I had only been surviving with a wooden spear. Surviving is a strong word for what I’ve been doing…

“My sweet Eliza, this is a last resort. I love you and I miss you…” blah blah blah…

Bullsh*t.

The fire burned brighter as I watched the name disappear. Eliza. I’ve never met an Eliza. Must be old. Who names their kid Eliza in the 2010s? 2013. The year the plane crashed. The fire spread so fast across the mountain, the nose of the plane was stuck in a cavern on the cliffside.

I was forced to burn there. In that damn metal tube. Burning just like how I burnt the only person I have thought of in years. Months? Days, I don't know. Poor poor Eliza no no no. 

I stupidly threw my hands into the fire, I barely felt it as I grabbed the unburnt edge of the paper. F*ck. I threw my only other person into that fire.

I sat there and sunk as my hand bled. Eliza, Eliza, Eliza. Drowning in her name. Drowning in blood. Drowning like I did when the floor of the plane gave way. As I hit the crashing ocean below, it felt like every bone in my body was shattered. I don't know how I got onto land, all I know is that I only remember the accident. 

Eliza…

Maybe I do know an Eliza? I don't remember. What was the other name on the letter? Meg…That sounds close. It sounds like something I know. 

My burnt flesh. A dark mark.

Meg. Written in ink on my leg. Oh god no no no. Meg. I love her. I don't remember her but I love her.

I sat there. Not letting myself move. I’ll just let the tide take me tomorrow.