The patting of the rain and the howling of the wind made it hard to make out the strange noises , a distant "help"possibly of prehaps another trap set by the clowns .
Six years i had been stranded on this island , all alone . At first i thought i was the only one , but then the whispering came ,along with the traps to kill me . I had called them clowns to make them less scary but i think its done the opposite, for i am now terrefied by the word .
This isnt your average island with the swaying coconut trees and the constant glare of the sun over the blue waters , no if that was the case i would go out of the cave that is now my home more often. This island was dence woodland with grey clouds allways hanging over it , the creatures were few and i mainly lived on fruits and if im lucky a squrral .
next part coming soon
