Puck's Lost Days

(You might find a large size Ziploc baggie lying washed up on the edge of the water, half buried in the sand and partially concealed by driftwood. Inside is what appears to be a dirty, torn and worn notebook missing well over half of its pages with “Property of Puck” etched on the outside in fancy lettering. Most of the pages seem brittle with wrinkled spots from the effects of salt water and air.)

May, 2012

My name is William Alexander Puck, and being of sound mind and… well, maybe I don’t have to do that part yet. Anyway, I’ve decided to start writing a journal in my sketchbook so that in the very likely case that I die before I manage to find shore or anyone finds me, maybe somehow this might find its way back to my friends so they'll know what became of me. The people I know have probably noticed my abrupt absence from the island. I let most of them know I believe before I left, but I simply couldn’t take it anymore. All the pain, all the frustration. A myriad of confusion and anguish ever since I arrived. I might still be reeling from the loss of Sebeline, but I simply HAD to get away, and it had to be RIGHT THEN. Unfortunately, as it so turns out, the mainland was a lot further away than I initially thought it was, and trying to row there in the dead of night was not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Certainly not the dumbest, but it’s down there.

Anyway, I’ve been adrift for a number of hours now and still no land in sight. I think I remember hearing one time on Discovery Channel that the Pacific is a terrible ocean to be lost in. Then again, maybe I’ll wash ashore in the sea of Japan or someplace cool like that? And then I’ll get to be in an episode of I Shouldn’t Be Alive. Also, I’m not exactly sure what day it is, so if I write a time from here on in I’m probably guessing. It’s kind of hard to keep track of time out here I’ve noticed.

A few days later, or so… May 2012

It’s been another two days I think. I’m really really thirsty and all this salt is killing me. Literally. I remember seeing on the Discovery channel one time where you can gather clean fresh water from salt water using two plastic tubs, saran wrap, and a pebble. That’s all fine and dandy if you happen to have two plastic tubs, saran wrap, and a pebble when you get lost at sea. I do have a plastic bag for my books (a trick I learned after some Asshole sent all my stuff to the bottom of the waterfall he tried to drown me in.) Maybe it is time to start writing out a will now…

I can’t believe this honestly. I’ve survived Numerous homicide attempts by multiple psychopaths and ten foot tall monsters, stabbing, disembowelment, and being snapped in half for it to end like this? ...I don’t want to die… at least not alone... For comfort I just think… at least I’ll get to see Sebeline again, and Celeste too. Maybe it’s just a hallucination from extreme dehydration, but I think I see something on the horizon. I think I’m going to give it till tomorrow before I start bequeathing the contents of my backpack to anyone. Please don’t let it be an illusion…

A good day, May 2012

It wasn’t an illusion! It was an island in fact. A very rocky island… I don’t think the rowboat is salvageable, but I did grab the oars. I can’t believe my incredible luck though, there’s even a small spring here that I can drink from. I swear I must have sat there drinking for at least an hour. Judging by the flora and fauna that I’ve seen so far it doesn’t actually seem like I’ve come that far, maybe one of the other islands off Washington, or Oregon, or Canada at the furthest. It is a little cooler here than it was back in Ravenhurst.

Looks to be plenty of deer and rabbits and such around too. Like any place though, I’m sure it’s bound to have its predators too, and that’s what worries me. I could have sworn I heard howling the other night. Also, I’ve had to use a lot of paper for fire and other stuff since most of the wood around here is wet. And I need to start work on shelter too, and finding some food… I guess what I’m saying is I won’t be able to write much more. I need to conserve paper… only update every few weeks…

June(probably) 2012

it’s been a few weeks or so, so it’s probably late June now. Turns out there’s enough edible plants and animals running around to keep me going, and I managed to make a few spears and things I still have my knife too thankfully, and my lighter. I ran out of lighter fluid a long time ago, but the flint lets me make sparks at least which is a big help. I can only think how much easier this would be if I could still use my old hand mirror here to find things. Maybe then I could also find my way home, or maybe at least check in on my friends. I spend a lot of time thinking about my friends back in Ravenhurst. I hope they’re all still okay. I still feel guilty about leaving like I did, especially Luna since things had only just started between us. She was a sweet girl, and she deserved better than that. Better than me. Maybe I shouldn’t have left? What if something happens that I could have helped? It was selfish of me to try and run from my problems I suppose.

On a lighter note, I did manage to befriend a raccoon by giving him some food. I’ve decided to name him Wilson in honor of Tom Hanks. With the paper shortage, it’s nice to have someone to talk to without wasting precious page space and graphite. I honestly don’t see how the wolves can enjoy this hunting thing so much. I have to mention as well… I think I felt safer out on the open ocean than I do here. Every night in the pitch blackness I hear so many strange noises coming from the woods. It may just be my imagination, but I swear I feel like I’m being watched, stalked out here. I think I see tall forms moving in the shadows. It’s like a nightmare, but I think the thing that calms me the most is the knowledge that I’ve already seen and faced real monsters. What could be worse than that?

July (DEFINITELY) 2012

I have not a single doubt in my mind about what time of year it is now, only because it is SO BLAZING HOT outside now that it could only be July. As much as I try to stay in the shade, somehow I still managed to get a nasty sunburn. Maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time sitting in the dark of the bookstore back in Ravenhurst. Honestly, compared to the mosquitoes and everything else I’ve had to put up with wandering this wilderness the past few, is it months now? Anyway, the sunburn is the least of a thousand worries. I honestly don’t see how the wolves can enjoy this hunting thing so much. I feel so guilty every time I kill a deer or something, having to look into its eyes as it dies. It makes my stomach turn. I have to eat something though. Give me a grocery cart any day. I might go vegan if I could find enough plants to sustain me. Definitely if I ever make it home.

My birthday is or was sometime in the next or last few weeks or so. I decided to celebrate it a few nights ago with Wilson and a sand-sculpted cake while sharing some sweet berries I gathered up. Nothing grand, but it helps me stay calm in an otherwise maddening situation to have some sense of normality. If there’s one upside to the terrifying nights on this island, it’s the beautiful view of the sky. I’ve never seen so many stars in my life, and the waxing moon is simply breathtaking.

August 2012

I saw them again the other night, the shadows lurking in the woods. Only I finally managed to catch more than the shadows this time. Turns out it wasn’t just my overactive imagination. It was wolves, and big ones. Gods forbid, but I’m afraid they might be a pack of weres or something since I only see or hear them every few weeks. Honestly I’d rather take regular wolves any day. Also turns out that getting close enough to find out what they actually were wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. Seemed to set them off that I interrupted their prowling. I spent the whole night running and climbing trees. They chased me for miles through the brush around the island, though I think I managed to run them off at least temporarily when I speared one, though the dawn was also almost there as well. Lost my spear though. I wasn’t about to go after it.

It’s getting colder too I’ve noticed. Which brings up a concern that is just as dire as the wolves if not quite as immediate. I don’t have the clothes, food, or shelter to survive a winter trapped this far north. Winter here isn’t like winter back in the south where I’m from. I’ll freeze to death by Halloween. I have no choice, I have to get off this island and soon. I won’t last another month, especially with how aggressive the wolves have gotten. At least on the ocean I’ve got a chance. A slim one, but it’s something! I haven’t seen Wilson in days. I’m worried the wolves may have gotten to him. I’m going to start building a raft, and shove off as soon as possible.

About a week later.

It’s a little rushed, but I think the raft should hold up for me, hopefully at least long enough to carry me to the mainland. I got my spear back, covered in blood and it nearly stuck me in the head when it came flying from the darkness of the trees. I think that was as good of a sign as any that it’s time to go, though I also can't help but think it might have been kind of funny to look like I was wearing one of those novelty weapon-through the head caps when I die. at least it would have been quick. I hear freezing or drowning can be unpleasant. It’s also getting colder at night. I have trouble sleeping because of it, never was built for the cold. Thankfully I still have the oars from the rowboat. I’m striking out in the morning, for better or for worse. Either my salvation or my end is coming soon.

(The final page is stained on the lower edge with deep red splotches and a number of wrinkles from water droplets. The handwriting is little more than a hasty, barely legible scrawl.)

Next Morning

I still want to conserve paper, but I’m not really sure how much longer I’ve got anyway now, so I figured I might as well get everything out while I still can. The wolves attacked in the night. Tore up my left shoulder pretty bad and some deep gashes here and there I can’t get to stop bleeding yet. I barely managed to fend them off long enough and run fast enough to get to the raft. I didn’t have time to grab anything but my book before desperately shoving off adrift without the paddles, which were snapped in twain when I used one to block a pair of snapping jaws and the other to bash another fanged maw away from me. Who knows where I’ll end up now, or even if I’ll still be alive when I get there.

I miss my friends. Things might have been bad with with certain… creatures in the town, but my friends were always there for me when I needed them, and I just left them. Maybe this is my punishment. This reminds me though, to whomever finds this, I know some of the things in here might seem a little odd, but humor a dying man’s last wish and please deliver what’s left of this book if you can still read it to Lexie Ellwyn at Ellwyn’s Esoteric in Ravenhurst, Washington. Lexie, I just wanted to thank you and Tabbie, and Skip, Kel, Jake, Luna, and the others for everything have done for me. My life was all the better for knowing you all. Thank you.

The sky is getting dark now, even though it’s only midday. I can see a black cloud popping off lightning in the distance and the water’s getting choppy. The raft feels like it’s starting to come apart beneath me. I’m just so cold… and so tired. I can feel myself drifting off, and it’s starting to rain. I’m sealing up the book after this for safe-keeping. Just going to rest my eyes for a little bit. Maybe… when I wake up… it’ll be sunny and warm again.