a story by [phillip]

April 20th, 1986. My plane crashed after being shot by an RPG. I landed on Maliti Island. My friend and my cellphone had been destroyed. Also my TV, clothes, and board games. The only thing I had left was my guns and my dog. And my girlfriend. But soon I realized she was dead, too.

But I didn’t care. I was half done with her anyways. She cheated on me with another guy. As I sat on the island, I was hungry and scared so I began to make traps for wild animals. I put my gun on the trigger of my gun on a piece of string and laid it on the ground, so that way if you were to trip over it would shoot you in the head. And you know what happened, I tripped and died that night.

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