lets make think write creative!

The ocean stretched out before me, miles and miles of endless sapphire sea. The sky above me seemed like a blue dome, a clear, upturned bowl that kept me prisoner here on this island.
I couldn’t remember getting here. I’d never been to sea – well, unless you counted a short trip in a ferry to France.
But this… I had never been anywhere that could take me to this paradise island. Tiny though it was, it had everything: tall trees with broad, sheltering leaves to sleep beneath; a small stream rippling though the micro-jungle, providing me with fresh clean water to drink. There were coconuts and mangoes growing in the trees, and the ocean waters were plentiful with sea creatures. I dined well on succulent fruits, rainbow fish and sweet, salty crab meat.
I had no idea how long I had been here. In the early days, after the initial shock had worn off and I managed to get through a day without lying, sobbing, on the shimmering, soft sand, I had attempted to mark the days on a broad tree-trunk, using rocks, but their rounded shapes and bluntness had not been conducive to my efforts.
And then one day I found a spine lying on the sand; it was exactly what I needed: long, tough, pointed, and sturdy enough to cut through the bark of the tree as if it were putty.
I marked as many as four months worth of lines on the tough bark, but I knew I had been there longer: I spent about two weeks very ill with a fever. I think I must have eaten a poisonous fruit, or something. Anyway, I don’t know how I didn’t die: I was sick, delirious, semi-conscious, feverish. The fever was the worst. I had nightmares about a bright, white room, and strange noises I couldn’t understand. I even had hallucinations that someone was giving me medicine. Somehow, I pulled through it all.
But life was miserable. I was completely alone, and I had nothing to fill the long days with. The thing I wanted most was to be able to record my thoughts in the place. I don’t know why, exactly. I suppose I missed being able to keep a diary. I tried writing in the sand, but the sea took my thoughts each evening, and never returned them. I remember yelling in frustration that all I needed was a good notebook and pen.
And then… well, it was odd. I’m sure it was never there before – I mean, I had been all over that tiny beach – but the day after having bemoaned its lack, I stumbled upon a thick, leather-bound notebook beneath a rock. Beside it lay an unassuming orange biro. I couldn’t believe my luck. I danced around like a fool, there on the beach. How could I have missed it all this time? What an idiot I was not to have seen it sooner! I sat down and let the biro run across the smooth, white paper. I just let my brain take my words where it would: think…write. After months of not being able to express myself, it was a joyous release.
That notebook kept me occupied for weeks. But even so, something was missing. I was still alone, and very lonely.
One night, on the beach, I looked up into the stars and wished, as hard as I could, for a friend. For someone to share my days with, someone to talk to.
I fell asleep. And when I woke up, nestled against my shoulder was a large caterpillar. Now, I’m no scaredy-cat, but I have to admit, it freaked me out. I shrieked and leapt up. The caterpillar stared up at me with large, blinking eyes. Well… I thought it was a caterpillar. It was about the size of a kitten, had a long body like a caterpillar, and many legs. It was covered in a reddish fur, with green tufts along its back. Its eyes, though… they weren’t like caterpillar eyes. They were like the eyes of a puppy: soft, dark brown and, dare I say it, full of love.
As I stared down into those eyes, I felt my heart soften and melt. I knelt down.
‘Hello there. Sorry to startle you, little fellow…’
The caterpillar made a little chirruping noise, and crawled over to me, rubbing itself against my legs like a cat. I laughed at the ticklish sensation of its green bristles against my skin, reached my hand down and stroked it. It made a sort of rhythmic trilling noise, almost like a purr.
I have to tell you, that was it for me. From then on, me and Caterpillar were best friends. He followed me around everywhere, always alert, always happy to be near me. I found myself talking to him, confiding in him. I shared my food with him, and he slept across my chest at night, guarding me from nonexistent terrors. I didn’t think I could be happy in this prison, but somehow, his presence made me cheerful.
Every night, before I dropped off to sleep, I told him all about my old life, even the mundane things: about Christmas, daffodils, pizza and snow.
I was happy. Somehow, I was very happy…

…The observers looked down through the two-way glass dome, down to the small island habitat, down to their tiny, sleeping captive. It was hard to understand how a creature so primitive could have formed a cross-species friendship. Their experiments on the dominant species of this planet had shown a strange duality: they were capable of incredible cruelty, and yet, they could show enormous tenderness to creatures – like the fluffworm they had placed with her – with which they could not even communicate.
It had formed a caring, nurturing bond with another living being. Was it therefore fair to keep something that had demonstrated intelligence and – whatever its race had done – was capable of more noble feelings of affection? They had saved its life when it was dying, and now it, in turn, cared for another being.
‘It is an interesting specimen, is it not?’ asked one.
‘They all are,’ replied the other. ‘But in light of this development, I think it would be prudent to return it to where it was found.’
And they slowly lifted the dome…

One day, I was back. That’s the only way I can describe it. I went to sleep on the beach, and when I woke up, I was in my own bed, albeit with almost half a year of dust around me and a nasty-looking cobweb on the ceiling.
People ask me where I was during those five months. Sometimes I say I was on holiday, other times that I was doing something worthwhile, like working with orphans in Africa. Sometimes, if I want to tease, I tell them I was in rehab. But mostly, I just shrug my shoulders and say, “I was away”. What else can I say?
Am I afraid it could happen again? Of course. Nothing terrifies me more. But somehow, I have this strange feeling that whatever took me to the island means me no harm.
And Caterpillar? …You didn’t think I’d be this cheerful without him, do you? He was asleep on my chest when I woke up, same as he always was, and for all I know, as he always will be.
He makes an unusual companion, but I feel like he’s more than a pet: he’s the reason I made it through my experience on the island, and for that, I will always be grateful.

Love is at Wierd Places I crept down the staircase. We got ain the car and drove miles away. Of course i was writing on thinkwrites again. We got on the boat and we found out the worse of bad news. We were stranded. No one could find us. It was only me,my mom,the boatdriver and his son. His son was so cute. Our eyes reached contact but no words came out of our mouths. We couldnt stop thinking about each other. We stayed up late because we couldnt fall asleep cause love didnt let us. There was a storm that night. It was very cold too. The waves splashed us bigger then normal. I didnt want to look cause the salt water would make my eyes burn. Then bam a big wave came and knocked us into a bad current. I gripped to the handles in the bedroom and hoped i wouldnt be knocked overboard. I closed my eyes tightly then i fell asleep. The morning came. Me and the dreamy son were the only people aboard. We finnally talked to each other. " Hey" i said. He said it back. We got of the boat. He helped me down the ramp. We were smiling till we found out we were on a island. The boat woulnt move. We were stuck. My spine ached from the big storm and so did his. We were craving pizza but all we could eat was crab meat. Then 2 weeks passed and still no hope. We found almost 10 orange catapillars. They were harry and very cute. Then 2 more weeks passed. We gave up hope cause we have been out there for 27 days. So he promised me we would die together or live together but we wouldnt leave each other. I belived him. After that i heard a noise like a helicoptor. It was a helicoptor. We were saved and married each other on that day. So this is why i wrote this beautiful story on thinkwrite.

lets make think write creative!

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