The Cast Away
It was a scorching hot morning no one to talk to nothing to eat. But the only thing I can do is just watch the sun rise and set as I sit on my raft waiting to see if I can find a island to rest on. I thought maybe I can find some food or something that I can use to survive out there. The next sunrise I laid my eyes on a big island and I could never take my eyes off it. The island had so Many coconut trees I shouted out “COCONUTS” And jumped off my raft and started swimming as fast as I can but then I noticed that it wasn't there. “It was just my mind fooling me again” I said to myself but it wasn't. I saw the island again maybe it was just the big waves that that covered it. I swam again to it and I made it. “I ran up the coconut tree and stayed up there but I couldn't hold on so I decided to let go.” I ripped off a piece of my t-shirt and tied it together to make a grip for my legs. I put my legs in the tied clothes and jumped on the tree and put my hands upwards and then I jumped and jumped and I got to the top and twisted the coconuts and they went tumbling down like meteors going to hit earth and then that is how you get coconuts. Once I got down i noticed my coconut out at sea so I ran towards the water and swam to the coconut I was so far from the island I couldn't swim any more. But them moments later a terrible storm came towards me and hit me like as if I was a little tree to it. The storm took me far and far out into the darkest depths of the ocean but then I fell asleep on top of the water waiting for the storm to pass on. I awoke with a big gasp of breath and found myself lying on the seashore with big waves hitting me. I stood up and saw a city and people in it and also those things that are moving around on a track with yellow and white lines on it and a long long box with four wheels with a lot of people on it maybe it was because I was gone for like more than twenty years I forgot what thing were. So than I started a new life in the city. I got a job, a car , a house and a family now.
