Waking Ideas

Something terrible happened today. I cannot in my present state begin to understand the course of events which have led to the current situation. Only the future will fully explain. I must confess however that I have killed a man and now am in possession of a raft.

As my mind clears, I am beginning to piece together the events of the previous night. I will explain, to the best of my ability, what occurred. I entrust my sanity to the reader, hoping not to be condemned, but not expecting forgiveness.

Yesterday, I was sitting in the sand at the edge of the trees on the side of the island where I landed. The sun had sunk into the waves, illuminating the clouds above with red and pink rays. I was thinking about my unfortunate situation, my squandered fortune and lost love, and the night slowly stole the light from the earth. Then I heard noises from the jungle behind me. Startled, I turned around and saw lights in the jungle. They wavered and danced up the steep the mountain side, forming a flickering tail as they moved. For a moment I was entranced, then realized the lights were torches.

I raced into the jungle toward the lights, making quick progress in my frantic state. I soon approached the men carrying the torches, who were nearing the top of a ridge. I thought that soon I would be off the wretched isle and began to shout, “Hello there! Please, help me! I am alive!” Visions of my home and my beloved began to fill my head and I became giddy with joy as I ran toward the lights.

I stumbled into a clearing in the jungle and immediately found myself surrounded by swords. I stopped shouting. The torch light danced back and forth in the reflection of each of the nine shiny steel blades, all pointed at me. I saw that the men behind the swords were Spanish and Portuguese, and I knew from their dress that all were all high-ranking officers. I held my breath in fear that they would recognize me.

The men started to glance back and forth. Then their leader, who I knew to be Don Melchor de Aguilera, began to speak, his rich baritone voice emanating from beneath his dark mustache.

“I will give you a choice: you may choose life, or you may choose death. The condition of life is this: you must join us as our servant. If you choose life, you must kill the man who now serves us. You will do this to prove yourself to us, and if faithful your service will be handsomely rewarded.”

From his words, I concluded that he did not recognize me. I also concluded that to save my own life, I would be forced to accept his terms. There was no other choice. I did not want him to recognize my voice, so I quickly nodded and uttered a damning single word: “Life.”

The men surrounding me slowly stepped backward a few paces, enlarging the circle. From behind them, a small man was thrust into the circle, stumbling and falling to the ground. Blood poured down the side of his head and I saw a desperate fear in his crazed eyes. Then a sword was tossed onto the ground beside me. From the ground he began to plead for his life.

“Please! Do not kill me!” His words began to slur and he struggled to stay conscious. “I am innocent!” he screamed. “I have been true to my word! Spare me! Please!”

I hesitated, then picked up the sword. And in one swift strike, the deed was done. I stared at the bloody blade as it dropped from my hands. I had killed a man, and I knew then that my conscience would never let me rest peacefully again. I looked up as Melchor spoke.

“Your life belongs to us now. Never forget that.” I blacked out as something hit the back of my head.

When I awoke, I was on the sand of the beach, but it was still early in the night. A torch was propped in the sand near me. My head ached and my right hand burned with pain. I ripped off the bloody white bandage to see that an X had been carved into my palm. Blood still oozed from the sliced flesh and I quickly rewound the bandage. Then I fainted.

When I regained consciousness, I looked around and saw a small raft up the beach. I walked to it, finding a paper tied with string to one of the large branches forming the raft. I read the note then returned to where I had hidden my journal and in my crazed condition wrote a few words. Then I fainted again, unable to awaken myself from the nightmares until the morning light.

I do not dare reveal the exact details of the note in this journal. I fear that I have sold my soul.

[Editor's Note: This is part of a series of entries taken from a worn journal that was found in a box of mostly worthless trinkets bought at an estate sale years ago. While most of the writing is legible, some of the ink has faded and a few pages are missing. Sam has taken the liberty of filling in any gaps. ]