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My short skirt is also ripped, gaping open at one side, held only by a button. I don’t have any shoes on, just my little white socks. I took my shoes off, I remember, on the plane, thinking I might sleep.
The sun is harsh overhead. I can already feel that I’m getting burnt. I take off what’s left of my skirt and use it as a hood, to shield my face from the bright sun. So all I’m wearing now is a tiny pair of white panties. Even those are ripped and are hanging off me.
Even if I do get rescued, this is how they’ll find me.
Will they be searching for us?
How long have I been drifting? It’s impossible to kn
ow.
I feel the bump on my head. It’s stopped bleeding now and doesn’t feel like it’s too bad.
I’m sunburned and insanely thirsty. I’m guessing I’ve been floating maybe for a day. Maybe two.
My eyes well up a little but I scold myself. I’ll get even more dehydrated if I start crying. I need that moisture.
The ocean water is so blue. A bright, clear turquoise. Which makes me wonder. Maybe I’m not way out in the middle of the sea, where the water might be darker. Maybe I’m closer to land.
I scan the horizon, but I can’t see any shapes rising up. Just smooth, rippling water. As far as the eye can see.
I lay back in my raft, keeping my hood over my head, and I pray.
Please let me float close to land. I’m a good swimmer. I can swim for it if I see something. Please.
I’m so incredibly thirsty. And hungry. I didn’t even get to eat my cupcake.
Happy birthday to me.
Ha.
I let my eyes close and I sleep a little, dozing. I stare at the sky for hours on end.
Time passes. I’m dying of thirst.
This is how I’m going to die. Here, in this raft. No one will ever find me. I’m all alone in this world and I’m dying.
I cry a little more. Fuck it. If a girl can’t cry when she’s about to die, then fuck it all.
Swearing is a sin, of course. I silently apologize.
I apologize for everything bad I’ve ever done. Not wearing a bra when I should have. Thinking about kissing Chad, even though he wasn’t very attractive. It’s funny to have boys notice you. We’re never allowed out when school is in session, so I’m not really used to it. It was kind of fun, smiling at him and watching his fascinated reaction. Almost like I had a power over him I wasn’t expecting.
I cry some more. I guess I’ll never know what it’s like. To kiss someone. My friend Leah kissed me once. She wanted to experiment, she said. Her lips were soft. It felt naughty but also tame. But what would it be like to kiss a man? My friends and I talk about it sometimes, whispering at night. Leah had a photo, from a magazine. Of a naked man. His whole body was hairy. And his thing was hanging down between his legs. She called it his cock. It was the strangest sight I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring at it. There was something so fascinating about it. What would it feel like? To touch it. It looked hard. How does it even … ? How do a man and a woman … ?
I silently apologize again, staring up at the blue, blue sky.
I shouldn’t be thinking about sex. Not that I even know how it works.
It’s a sin.
I should be thinking pure thoughts, about finding water and living a pure life.
I’m jolted by the bump of my raft into … something.
I look over the edge.
OH MY GOD.
