I don’t know how I got here.

I woke up suddenly in this nightmare.  

 

This hellish place--

No water, no food--

This sand burning my face.

 

My lips are drying.

My eyes, squinting.

My ears, listening.

For something.

 

Then I remember something.

Familiarity. My friends and I sitting

On the cool ground, in a circle.

“What would you bring with you?” Asked Myrtle.

“To a deserted island?” I asked her.

I laughed and said, “Hopefully a lot of water.”

 

“You’re funny,” said Jason.

“Answer truly,” added Adan.

“Fine,” I told them.

 

“If stuck on a deserted island,

I wouldn’t take with me anything..”

 

--you’re mad! What about water?

“You didn’t let me finish,” I told Myrtle.

 

“I wouldn’t take with me anything.

Not my family, not a person.

Not a journal or a book,

Not one thing, not even a joke.”

 

“Why not?” They all echoed.

Reality snaps me back.

Everything’s hot.

I’m full of what I lack.

 

I think back hard

On my answer before.

I remember it clearly,

And wish I’d been wrong.

 

“Well,” I said quietly.

“I’m not going to lie.

I know when that happens,

I’m just going to die.”

 

But now that I’m here,

Ready to become like the sand,

I wish that I said something else

Like another wish that I can spend.

 

Then I’d wish for a lot of water

And my family and friends.

Because nothing is lonelier

Than being alone in the end.