Stranded in Heaven

It's been 30 days since the plane crash left us stranded on this remote island. I look around at the pristine beaches, lush tropical foliage, and endless blue skies, and part of me can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, I don't want to leave.

Kenna and Brooke, my fellow survivors, have become more than just companions in this ordeal. We've formed a bond that goes beyond friendship, born out of the shared challenges and intimate experiences.

In the beginning, our focus was purely on survival. We scavenged for food and freshwater, built a makeshift shelter from palm fronds and driftwood, and tried to make our existence as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. But as the days turned into weeks, something changed.

Kenna, with her adventurous spirit and resourcefulness, took charge of hunting for food, often returning from her expeditions with a triumphant smile and a bag full of coconuts or freshly caught fish. She was the fearless leader, always ready to explore the unknown corners of the island. She said she would always see herself on the Island but it had to be the heat just getting to her.

Brooke, on the other hand, brought a sense of craziness to our makeshift home. She had an uncanny ability to create beauty even in the direst circumstances. She wove garlands of wildflowers, turning our shelter into a tropical paradise, and her laughter was a constant reminder that even in the toughest times, joy could be found. She also the most promiscuous. She always wanted to have sex with Kenna and myself.

As for me, I found myself drawn to both Kenna's adventurous spirit and Brooke's crazy ideas.  The days of survival turned into nights of shared stories by the firelight, our conversations growing more intimate with each passing day.

It wasn't long before I realized that the bond between us had evolved into something deeper. The lines between friendship and something more had blurred, and it was as if the island itself had cast a spell, encouraging us to explore not just our surroundings but also our own desires and emotions.

The thought of rescue, which had once consumed our every waking moment, had now taken a back seat. We knew that one day, a passing ship or aircraft might spot our makeshift signal, but we no longer counted the days or yearned for that moment.

Instead, we cherished the simplicity of our lives on the island—our shared laughter, our quiet moments of reflection, and the warmth of our newfound connection. It was as if we had discovered a hidden paradise in the midst of our ordeal.

So, as I gaze out at the endless expanse of ocean, I can't help but feel a pang of reluctance. We may one day be rescued, but a part of me wonders if I'll ever truly want to leave this island, where Kenna, Brooke, and I have found not just survival, but an unexpected and profound connection that I never could have imagined.