This was meant to be our honeymoon. This was meant to be a happy time and not something like this.
We managed to reach the police but the sea is too rough and they say they can’t do the five miles from the main island in this weather. They won’t be here until the morning. They told us to just “hang in there.” I think they also didn’t take us very seriously.
Tori is sitting in the tiny wardrobe behind me. I just pray that the doors and shutters hold. I don’t know what this thing can do but it looked strong. The last time I heard it it was scratching the wall as if it wanted to climb on the roof, but I think it failed.
We saved for this holiday for two years. Two years! We both wanted it – the tropical island, all for ourselves.
This place looked as beautiful as in the prospectus. There is nothing here except this hut and a small forest of coconut and palm trees and of course the beach to all sides.
The boat brought us here around noon. The chefs stood smiling in front of the round hut with two bottles of champagne and a feast of seafood and fruits.
We sank in the beach chairs and they served us food and champagne until we were barely able to move. The whole time there was no noise except for the clicking of spoons, the small generator that supports the light and the water pump and a single power plug, and of course the waves. Those damn waves. Continue reading