Author's Note: The story of unlikely lovers being stranded on a desert island has always been cliche for me, but I had an idea and decided to give it a try. Hopefully, it's a little different from the typical stories like this. Events will move slowly, so if that's not your cup of tea then you're probably better off moving on to something else. As always, all sexual situations only involve characters eighteen years or older.
I'm still not sure if writing this journal is a good idea, but I wanted something to help me collect my thoughts, and this seemed as good a way as any. My name is Abby Morris; I'm forty years old and live in a small town that you've probably never heard of. That's a good thing for me, as I value my privacy above all else. I like to keep a lot about myself concealed, especially my past. That's why writing this is so difficult, as even articulating my thoughts and feelings like this goes against my nature, but that's also why I wanted to do it. Keeping everything bottled up inside eventually takes its toll, and this felt as good a way to understand and vent those pent-up emotions as any.
The catalyst of this story began years ago when I was twenty-eight, traveling with my husband and son on a tour of the Pacific islands, on a day when we had a yacht tour planned. My husband John was called away for an emergency conference-call business meeting, so he had to remain at the hotel we were staying at, but he insisted that our son Daniel and I go on without him. The last thing anyone expected was a flash storm to hit, much less for our boat to capsize, but like some nightmare from a movie it had happened, with all hands, to the best of my knowledge, being lost at sea. Somehow, by the grace of God, Daniel and I managed to wash up on shore on one of the nearby islands, or at least I thought it was nearby. In actuality, we'd ended up miles away from our designated route, in the middle of some uncharted territory. I did my best to find us temporary shelter while we waited for a rescue, which I hoped would be a maximum of a few hours, but those hours soon turned into days and then longer without any signs that we might be found.
I'm not going to go too much into the struggle for survival that ensued, because as harrowing and life-changing as that experience was it still isn't the main topic of what I want to write about. Suffice it to say that trying to secure the basic necessities, not only for yourself but a bewildered ten-year-old was a terrifying experience. Luckily, I had taken some survival-type courses years before when I'd been an avid hiker, and they proved invaluable in getting us through those rough times, but even then those first few days and weeks had been frantic as I did the best I could to provide for us.
Time passed, and with it, the signal fires that I'd meticulously tended to every day to reveal our location to any would-be rescuers became less morale-boosting as well as less frequent, and more of my time went to exploring the island we were now stranded on in hopes of finding anything of use. Surprisingly, a fair number of items from our ill-fated voyage managed to wash up ashore, including a few passenger suitcases that had clothing and other useful items, but beyond that it was up to me to scavenge the island to find anything that we could use to survive, all the while trying to tend to my young son.
Eventually, we managed to construct a basic shelter inside the mouth of a cave, as well as set up other basic work-spaces to make our stay livable. One of the items I'd found from our wreckage was one of those kids' toys that allow you to write and then erase messages over and over again, and I immediately set about using it to give Daniel the best educational instruction I could. I'd found some other items that were extremely useful, including scissors and knives, but beyond that it became necessary for us to find whatever we could from the island to support us. Once again, I could probably write a novel's worth of stories based on these events, but that's not the purpose of this testimony. We ended up being shipwrecked on this island for years, ten to be exact, and in that time a great deal changed between Daniel and I. Of course, much of it had to do with him starting as a small child and then later becoming an adult, but our relationship also developed in other ways too, and I suppose this journal is my way of trying to come to terms with all that had happened.
So when did I notice things beginning to change? I guess it was shortly after Daniel turned eighteen. Daniel and I had always been close, and practically inseparable from the day we were stranded, but lately he was acting more distant, wanting to keep to himself. It was distressing to me, especially since I felt like we had such a close relationship. Maybe he was simply trying to be more independent now, although in terms of survival skills, he'd long ago established that he could look after himself. Something was going on with him and I couldn't understand it, and so one day I decided to simply come out and ask him.
"What's with you, Daniel? Something just seems so off about you lately."
"I dunno, I guess things change over time.. for you... me," he answered cryptically, uncharacteristically brooding as he spoke. While Daniel had never been the best at communicating, after eight years I did feel as if he'd managed to open up to me in a way that allowed him to be more direct than this.
"Is this more about me treating you like a kid?" I asked. Daniel had become frustrated, even cross with me as of late because he felt like I was not giving him the proper respect he'd earned as an adult. It wasn't something I'd noticed until he'd brought it to my attention, but as I considered his arguments I began to understand that he was right.
"I'm sorry dear," I'd apologized. "I suppose I've always been the doting mother, and it's not a habit that I can easily break." And with that, I began to give him more free reign, like allowing him to do chores away from our campsite without my supervision even though he'd long before proven his capabilities. I thought the matter had been put to rest, but perhaps this was not the case.
"It's not that Mom," Daniel replied. "It's more like... all the friends I had back home are doing things like getting ready for college, or moving out to live their own lives, you know... meeting people. It's an important time for them, but for me... well, it's just another day here all alone..."
"With me," I said, trying to complete Daniel's sentence.
"No Mom, not at all," he said with sudden conviction. "You're the last of what's bothering me. In fact, you're the only part of all this that's been any good for me."
Despite his convincing tone, I found that very hard to believe. I knew when Daniel was talking about his former friends experiencing a life he could not, he wasn't just talking about school or careers. Most of them had probably had a few girlfriends by now, or fallen in love. Daniel hadn't so much as kissed a girl before; it had taken all my strength to keep from crying when he'd first told me that years ago, although I had suspected as much considering his age when we first arrived here.
It wasn't a topic we discussed often, something that I realized in hindsight had become as difficult for me as it had for him. Daniel, because of natural shyness and maybe a reluctance many children have to talk about such topics with their parents, and for me, because I knew I couldn't simply say things to him like, "Don't worry son, things will get better for you when you grow up," or "Don't worry, Daniel, one day you'll meet the right girl," like other parents could.
And so for the most part, I avoided the subject, but I could tell that wasn't going to be so easy anymore. He was eighteen now, and if I knew anything about men that age I knew how much his hormones were taking over. I'd seen much of it already, as he'd grown nearly a foot in the last year alone, and had gained at least twenty pounds of lean body mass, going from a skinny-ish boy into, well... a man. But that only demonstrated what was happening to Daniel on the outside, I could only imagine what he was feeling on the inside. I tried to avoid the subject because I knew I had no answers, but now sensed that I wasn't going to be able to get away with that any longer.
"I'm so sorry dear, I wish I had something better to say," I lamented. "All of this... all of this shit we've had to go through since getting here... I could endure it all if it had only happened to me. I've lived my life, but you never got that chance. I'm so sorry, Daniel."
"You were only twenty-eight back then, you're only thirty-six now," Daniel replied matter-of-factly. "That's hardly a lifetime."
"It was enough. I got to fall in love with your Dad, get married, and have you. That's more than enough in one lifetime to satisfy me. If I could get you away from this damned place, I'd be more than happy to trade staying here alone for the rest of my life."
"Come on Mom, now you're just being dramatic," Daniel responded. "If we leave, we leave together."
