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01 | Stranded

I gasped.

It felt like I had been holding my breath for hours. No— days. And my body was stiff with lack of movement, and while I couldn’t see, I flailed and patted the ground, needing something real.

Sound came next.

One moment, everything was eerily silent, and I wondered— as much as a person in a panic could wonder— if I had gone deaf. Blind too. There was nothing; a vast emptiness stretched out before me, and as I held onto a clump of grass, an array of possibilities entered my mind.

Am I dead?

In a coma?

Still dying?

Then, sound returned.

Birds chirping, crickets singing, wind blowing through trees. It hit me with such force that I froze, waiting for the killing blow— but it never came. As the thudding in my heart slowed, and I realized that I wasn’t, in fact, about to be a corpse, I took in the noise around me.

That fear turned to curiosity. I rolled onto my back and was about to stand up when my vision finally returned. It crept through the darkness slowly, still black around the edges, then suddenly bursting with life.

I sat up carefully.

Trees surrounded me, their trunks wide and their canopies stretching into the sky overhead. There was a stream of running water. At that stream, there were a few animals having a drink, such as a small deer and raccoon. They took no notice of me, but I could see the fawn watching me, ready to bolt at any given second.

My hands shook in my lap. Frantically, I tried to think back to the last thing that I could remember but came up blank. The only scenario that could have put me in this situation was a plane crash, and yet, I didn’t see any scattered machinery, and there wasn’t a single scratch on my quivering arms.

My shoulders felt heavy. After patting them quickly, I realized that I was wearing a small, black backpack. I slid it off and laid it on the ground before me.

A menu popped up. I blinked, unsure what I was seeing, and then squinted to read the text.

INVENTORY

Underneath INVENTORY, there were rows of small boxes— most of them empty. Feeling like I was losing my mind, or trapped in a really strange dream, I reached out my hand and tapped the first box.

A flashlight appeared in my hand. Gasping, I dropped it to the ground and backed away.

What’s happening to me? I wondered. This looks like a video game, but as far as I’m aware, nothing like this exists in real life. Even virtual reality isn’t this good.

I took a few deep breaths. When it felt like I could move again, I inched towards the flashlight and squatted down. I poked it— and nothing happened. It didn’t explode, no weird menus popped up, and it didn’t kill me. I figured that was probably a good thing. Reaching out my hand, I grabbed the flashlight delicately and went to put it in my bag, but as soon as the flashlight tapped the fabric, it disappeared from my palm and reappeared on the side of the backpack.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to get twenty gallons of gasoline, douse the backpack, and let it burn while performing an anti-curse ritual— if those even existed. But when I looked around, feeling the emptiness of the forest around me, seeing how… untouched… it was, my logic got the better of me.

I begrudgingly slung the backpack over my shoulder and walked towards the stream. After waking up, my throat felt so parched that it hurt to breathe. No matter how much I swallowed, how much I tried to ignore it, it was making me feel worse than I already did. Kneeling next to the stream, I took a moment to watch the water run across the rocks, occasionally carrying a small fish with it, and I hesitated.

My only experience in the wilderness was playing survival games. I closed my eyes, cringing at the truth of that thought. Being a homebody, I had never been camping, hiking, and had never even step foot in a lake. And while I like playing games that took place in these environments, I preferred experiencing them from the comfort of my own home— with air conditioning. A fridge. I don’t know, access to tap water and hospitals.

I shook my head and then dunked my hands in the stream. Almost instantly, more text popped into the air in front of me. It happened so fast that I jerked my hands from the water, and it immediately disappeared. Experimentally, I dipped my hands in the warm stream again and the text returned.

WATER

The words were green, and as far as I knew, that was a good thing. I brought the water to my mouth and took three big gulps. Then, I cupped my hand and brought more water to my mouth again and again. I drank until the painful thirst disappeared and I was left staring at my rippling reflection in the stream.

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You’re in a mess now, Jo. My shoulders slumped as I allowed myself a moment of self-pity. You couldn’t even survive a full year of college, how are you supposed to survive the wilderness?

I sighed, plucking a small stick from my brown hair. It had only been ten minutes, but I was already imagining a future without shampoo and conditioner. Even though my hair was only down to my shoulders, I knew that it would be a hassle soon, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut it. Not yet. Taking the scrunchie from my wrist, I wrapped my hair into a loose bun and nodded to my reflection.

I can do this. It won’t be easy, but I don’t have a choice.

I stood and looked from left to right. The stream stretched on in either direction, and as far as I knew, it was best to follow a body of water in this situation, so you didn’t get lost. Pursing my lips, I studied each direction carefully, but it didn’t seem like there was any major difference between them. Then— a thought hit me.

The stream was running to the right. As I studied it closer, the stream was on a very small incline, and the water was going downhill. Glancing to the left, I realized that if I took that route, I could very well be going up a large mountain— the canopies were so thick that I couldn’t tell.

I turned to the right and starting walking. If I was lucky, the bottom of the hill would lead to an opening, or if I was really lucky, civilization.

Even though the deer at the stream had run off long ago, there were plenty of animals along the way. There were all sorts of birds, even some that I didn’t recognize. I saw a few squirrels, a pair of rabbits, and even a fleeing turtle.

Pausing, I placed my backpack on the ground in front of me and studied the contents again. Some of the icons were so small that I couldn’t really tell what they were, but I scanned until I found what I was looking for: a pocket notebook. I tapped it hesitantly and gritted my teeth when it appeared in my hands. That would take some getting used to.

I put the backpack back on my shoulders and kept walking. Only this time, I grabbed the pencil from the bindings and flipped open the notebook.

I’ll need a good source of food. Fruit and vegetables would be good, since I can’t really imagine killing anything, but I figure it could happen if I got desperate enough. I groaned at the thought. But some things are probably poisonous.

Food.

I wrote the word down then tapped the pencil against my chin. Speaking of poisonous, I had no idea if this place had venomous snakes or spiders— but if it was anything like a survival game, then I could likely count on it.

Medicine.

A breeze wafted through the trees. It was warm, but I could only imagine the situation I would be in if it turned cold before I was rescued. The land around me looked unbothered by human hands, so I doubted I would meet anyone else, unless it was like some firewatch tower.

Shelter.

I stepped over a large rock, careful not to trip and sprain an ankle. As I did, a thought crept into my mind: What if there were others? After all, I randomly appeared here, and the last thing I remembered was playing video games, so perhaps others were waking up here as well. The thought of not being alone made hope rise in my gut.

Survivors.

The book Lord of the Flies popped into my mind, and I pursed my lips. There was a common theme in storytelling where desperate people turned against each other in desperate situations. In fact, it was just basic human nature. But on the other side of the coin, I had once heard a story about a group of teenage boys who had actually been stranded on an island and helped each other survive. If my memory was right, one of them even made a makeshift guitar and they sang songs around the fire. I really, really hoped I could be that lucky.

Weapons.

I sighed. Closing my notebook, I tapped it against my backpack— not even bothering to take it off this time— and it instantly disappeared. A mix of feelings wove together in my stomach, making me feel nauseous. And yet, in that fear and nervousness, there was the small flutter of another feeling— one I had never felt before. At least not on this scale.

Anticipation.

By all means, I was scared of what would happen next. But, at the same time, I had been playing survival games for so many years: DayZ, The Forest, 7 Days to Die, Raft, Stranded Deep, Green Hell… The list went on and on. And even though those were just games, surely some of it had to be at least inspired by real life.

I could only hope.

Feeling uneasy, I grabbed the notebook from my bag one last time and grabbed the pencil. It was already getting dull. Slowly, I wrote the words that I knew would be most critical to my survival.

Game mechanics.

When the notebook was safely back in my inventory, I kept walking. Due to my lack of exercise, my breath was already coming out in short huffs, and my legs were starting to ache, but I refused to stop. I only allowed myself a brief pause to take another sip from the stream. After that, I continued on my trek to search for any signs of people or civilization.

And then, I heard a noise.

It was loud— like a rushing sound. Maybe a waterfall or weird wind tunnel. I navigated around the trees, trying to avoid areas where the grass was too tall and thick when something caught my eye. The blinding colors of light beige and blue.

“No, no, no, no,” I murmured frantically, breaking into a run. “Please don’t be an island. Please don’t be an island.”

I emerged from the trees and my breath caught in my throat. It was, in fact, an island. The sands were so pale they were almost white, and the waves that washed against them stretched as far as the eye could see. There was nothing and no one— only an empty beach.

I fell to me knees, staring out at the water. The gravity of my situation came crashing down: I would have to survive in the wilderness until someone rescued me, and as deserted as everything seemed, that could take a long, long time. I was alone— I had no food, nowhere to sleep, and no medicine if I got an infection.

At least I have drinking water.

Glancing at the stream, I laughed. And then I put my hands to my face and wept.

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