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Tall leafy trees towered over the area, my mind tries to provide the illusion of swimming in an exotic resort, but it just doesn’t feel right. You cannot get a tan no matter how hard you try and there are no indoor areas to avoid the rain. The lack of Wi-Fi and cell usage didn’t help combat the loneliness. I’m so bored all of the time.
By the fourth day, my wounds were healing up nicely and I felt a little stronger. Today, I would take a look around. Aside from the trees above, the only bit of shelter in this area is an old grayish charcoal-colored shed. I had to check it out.
My senses heightened as if I was approaching something dangerous. To make it worse my common sense started screaming at me, telling me that there was nothing to be fearful of. Then the fears and the mind engaged in a civil war until the body committed to a response.
It was eerie being next to that shed, but with it came a wave of excitement to quench the empty feeling of boredom. I eventually grabbed the handle of the shed’s blackened door. It was rusted pretty badly and dangled off the door by its bottom hinge. Upon contact, I felt a sensation similar to that of touching the tip of a rusty nail. I went to open the door, fearing that some kind of animal had made its nest in the rotting structure. So there I was, safely behind the battered door as it creaked open.
Nothing immediately rushed out at me and I felt confident enough to take my first peek inside. To my surprise, there was nothing except a small work bench along the right side. A single nail was partially driven into the wall above that bench.
The floorboards were rotting away, the possibly of them giving out increasing with every second I stood in there. As I continued to look around, a single item appeared near the leg of the bench. A hacksaw or at least what was left of it. Now nothing more than a twisted, rusted piece of metal with dulled teeth that could barely cut through butter. Regardless of the tool it once was, here it is reduced to mere scrap metal. I decided to hang it back on the wall before leaving. It was the right thing to do.
Before continuing my exploration, I turned to take one last glimpse of the shed. I noticed something irregular on the outer back wall. A message was carved into the wood by another human being. My astonishment of being here with another person was immediately dulled by the nature of the cruel message:
"There is no way off this island.”
By Skill Flea