Island of the Sweet Trees

As I licked the warm, salty sweat that dripped from my forehead, I knocked a coconut off the tree and cautiously slid down the rough tree. The green coconuts were my favorite, for within them was a premature globe of sweet, white meat.

Suddenly a blast of wind caused my blonde knotted hair to whip around my head. When the second gust came, a shiver rushed down my spine.

"Elise," my mother called. "Put on plenty of sunscreen, okay? I don't want you getting burnt."

My eyes opened, realizing where my mom was ... Washington, D.C., not on the same deserted island in the middle of the Atlantic, where I was. The shiver dissipated and the heat set in. If only I had sunscreen, I would put it on.

After I skinned the coconut, I scraped off some firm meat. I savored it, for I wouldn't eat until tonight. But tonight I would feast. .. it was my island anniversary.

Four years ago today, my mother and I went parasailing. It would be a grand adventure, we agreed. So for my thirteenth birthday, we did it. I remember it clearly.

"Make sure you buckle everything buckle-able, darling."

"Before I knew it I was roped to the boat flying behind it. The air whipped my hair and I closed my eyes.

"SNAP." I heard faintly. "SNAP!" I heard it again.

"SNAP ... SNAP!" And before I knew it I was losing sight of the boat. When I was conscious, I was washing up on the shore of an island.

My Island.

I headed out to the rocky slopes of the crescent shaped island, where I gathered snails to boil. I put them in my basket and headed home.

My "house" was a lean-to made of bamboo and banana leaves. I went inside it and grabbed the coconut globe to start preparing dinner. In my only pot, I threw in some shaves of coconut and all the snails.

After my meal I walked into the ankle deep water and a tear streamed down my face. I wanted my mother, and who knew how lonely she was.

When I woke up I heard the faint roar of a helicopter, probably 3 miles away. But that was normal - I remember the first time I almost died trying for them to see me.

"Elise!" I heard an almost crying voice. That was a normal illusion for me. "ELISE! ARE YOU HERE?" It was a tired, weary and sad voice.

"What?" I asked. I hadn't spoken aloud for so long my sound was more like a growl than a word.

"Is that you, Elise?" My mom pleaded. I must be dreaming. But then, like an angel, my mom, followed by a group of men, appeared from the trees.

I am saved.

"Mom!" My hoarse voiced called. "Mom?" I yelled again. I ran swiftly to my mother and before I knew it - I was sobbing. I was so happy, relieved, amazed. What a good feeling I was feeling.

Joy.

By Rachel

Montford Middle School, 6^th grade