March 19th, 1986:
I haven’t seen Mike since yesterday. It’s odd, we are together all the time since we got here. I know I used to hate Mike when we worked together, but being the only two survivors of the shipwreck has pretty much made us best friends. It wasn’t easy at first, having to share the little food we had left, or having to work together to build the shelter... but I really love the guy. We have helped each other through this, keeping our hopes that someday we’ll be rescued.
March 21st, 1986:
I have been searching for Mike for two days now, with no signs of him anywhere. I went into the woods, the cave, I even checked the swamps. We never went to the swamps, it was too dangerous... My hopes are beginning to fade away, I really need to find him. This is the first time I have cried since the shipwreck. I don’t think I can go through with this without him.
March 23rd, 1986:
I’m giving up on Mike. He’s gone. Maybe he killed himself. Maybe he was eaten by a shark. I can’t stop sobbing. I want to die now, but I’m too scared of pain for me to kill myself...
March 27th, 1986:
They say time slows down when you are bored... or sad... I can now say that it’s true. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been here, I don’t even remember what I look like. I feel this bumps and blisters on my face and I’m glad I can’t even look at them... My worst fear may have come true, as I feel I have been disfigured for a long time now. I miss Mike a lot. Where did you go, buddy?
March 29th, 1986:
I can’t even remember the last time I went to the bushes to go pee. I may have been peeing on my pants for days now, or I may have been going to the bushes like I used to when I got here. It’s all a blank. And the flies that surround me all day long can’t let me think properly. I must smell awful, but I can’t even sense it.
March 30th, 1986:
I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Or perhaps since the day before? My stomach feels weird. The walls of my stomach have come closer, almost closing it entirely. The odd part is that I don’t feel any pain. I don’t even know if this is hunger or an indigestion, like the many we were used to suffer by trying out different foods from the island.
April 1st, 1986:
I think I haven’t slept in three days straight. Or maybe it’s been five, ten, or even fifteen days now. Insomnia can be pretty rough when you have nothing to do, and it’s even worse when it’s dark like this. I have been paying attention to all the noises that happen in the night. These nights are so rich, so powerful and full of emotions. Yet I can’t feel them properly. I just listen and think, but I can’t make anything out of it.
April 4th, 1986:
Each day seems longer than the one before. I can’t find my watch. That watch has been loyal to us for such a long time. But I can’t find it, I wonder if Mike took it with him when he left.
April 9th, 1986:
I decided to go for a walk today. I feel somewhat strong, even though it’s been days since my last bite. I walk and it’s like I don’t even feel my legs moving, but I keep going. I feel like I’m dead inside, but yet I can still move around. I have lost my appetite, my sense of touch, and I pretty much don’t feel any pain. It’s like I’m empty inside. Yet I’m surviving.
April 15th, 1986:
I have been taking these walks on a daily basis now. It feels good to wander around on the island, yet I feel so empty inside. I’m starting to forget about Mike. I don’t miss him much anymore, maybe it’s part of this feeling of emptiness I’ve been experiencing.
April 18th, 1986:
I looked down from the top of the hill and I saw what appeared to be a grave. I had not seen that before, and it’s strange, because it’s not so far from where Mike and used to send out smoke signals. I’m going for a closer look tomorrow.
April 19th, 1986:
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it. The grave had an inscription with my name on it. And Mike’s lifeless body was lying on the sand roughly ten feet away. Am I dead? Why can’t I stop crying? I can't stop crying, yet I feel so empty inside.