[ WP ] You 're the last survivor of a group who 've been stranded on an island following a shipwreck , this is your message in a bottle .

To whoever finds this. 
 
 I am the lone survivor of a shipwreck that happened a few weeks back. Or at least I think it was a few weeks. Could be months or even years by now for all I know. Anyway, everyone else is dead. My crew and I were dumbasses and went out to haul in more tuna, even though every forecast in the region was calling for severe storms. We thought we could get just a few more before we called it a day and went home. The storm made the water go crazy and the ship was moving every damn direction you can think. Finally, one wave hit us that was just too much for the ship to take. It flipped and we all went overboard. A couple guys on break down inside the ship never made it out, poor bastards. The rest of us were n't much better off though. One of the lifeboats was floating along and I sprang for it. I and five others all got on; the rest were swept away by the enormous waves. I do n't know what became of them but probably nothing good. The storm finally calmed after a few hours and we found ourselves hopelessly stranded. We got badly burned from the sun and all we had to eat was the emergency supply in the life boat, which Phil rationed out to us. `` We got ta make it last,'' he said. I do n't know who put Phil in charge but everyone else went along with it. 
 
 After eating what was basically a couple bread crumbs per day for God knows how long, we finally saw a small island in the distance. We paddled toward it, hoping for some kind of relief from this nightmare. Unfortunately, the island was tiny, maybe a few thousand square feet, and had almost no life on it save for a few trees and some hermit crabs here and there. We scraped up what little of those crabs we could catch and shared morsels of them, barely enough to fill me up halfway. I was starving, so I eventually resorted to stealing out of the backup food supply when nobody was looking. I took little bits at a time and nobody was any the wiser. 
 
 When we ran out of food, we did n't know what to do. No planes had come overhead and no boats were anywhere in sight. We tried eating the leaves off of the trees, but it did n't satisfy. One among us, Andrew, succumbed to some kind of sickness he'd gotten a few days after the wreck. We gave him an honorable memorial and said a few words on his behalf. I looked at his body and remembered some of the stories I had read about desperate situations like this. I suggested we eat Andrew. Well, nobody seemed to like this idea very much, but I reminded them how hungry we all were. Andrew was dead anyway; what good was a rotting body to us? Slowly but surely, they started agreeing, the last of whom was Phil. We tore off pieces of muscle and flesh, at first gingerly putting tiny pieces into our mouths. Once we had gotten a taste, though, we eagerly dove in and scarfed down as much as our greedy bellies could handle. 
 
 We picked at the body until it rotted a few days later. We cast the last of Andrew into the ocean, and we were once again left without food. Some of the others were looking a bit sick though, probably from eating raw human flesh. My stomach was aching for food, so I decided I'd take advantage. Though the island was small, we afforded each other privacy for personal situations like using the restroom or masturbation. Jeremy, the sickest of us, had gone to take a leak, so I followed him. As he was relieving himself, I grasped his neck and choked him to death. I ran back and tricked the others, telling them that I had found Jeremy on the ground, not breathing. We treated him the same as we had treated Andrew and were soon feasting on his remains. 
 
 There were now four of us left. I knew I could n't be the one to discover a body again lest the others begin to suspect me. Over the next couple of days, I spent some `` masturbation'' time grinding a stick with a small shell that I found until I had a sharp, sizable stake, which I kept hidden from view in the hole of a certain tree. At night, when the others were sleeping, I took the stake from its place and drove it into the throat of Henry. I chose the throat so that he could n't cry out and alert the others, who stayed soundly asleep. His eyes bugged out of his head; soft, delicious eyes. I watched blood pour from his body until he was still. I placed the stake into the hands of Benjamin. He would never believe that Phil would do such a thing and immediately point the blame toward me, but I could count on Phil to take my side, especially if the evidence pointed to Ben. 
 
 The next morning Phil and Ben were horrified at the scene, and I acted along with them. I had left the stake, covered in Henry's stale blood, near the spot where Ben had been sleeping. Phil was the one to point it out and began questioning Ben, and I followed suit. Of course, Ben said that he had been framed and that I had in fact committed the murder. I assured Phil that I had done no such thing, and that the stake was, after all, in Ben's possession, not mine. Phil believed me, and we overtook Ben and pinned him to the ground. While he was screaming bloody murder, Phil and I discussed what to do with him. I told him that, since we had run out of food, the most logical course of action would be to simply break Ben's legs and save him for when we had finished eating Henry's body. Phil knew how cruel the punishment was, but he considered that Ben had just murdered Henry and tried to blame me for it, and so agreed. He held Ben's body on the ground while I stomped his legs over and over until I heard each of them crack in a spine-shuddering way. Ben screamed out in agony, tears streaming down his face, and it was all Phil could manage to not break out in tears himself. I put my hand on his shoulder and assured him that we had done the right thing. 
 
 We ate Henry that day, feeding bits to the disabled and whimpering Ben. He knew his fate but was still incredibly hungry, so he obliged. After a few more days, Henry's corpse was rotted and the time had come to move on to Ben. We figured the most fitting way to kill him would be the same way he had killed Henry. I offered to do the final deed, but Phil assured me that because I had broken his legs, he was the one who should drive the stake into Ben's throat, as much as it would hurt him. I saw tears stream down both their faces as the stake came down and pierced Ben's skin, precious blood oozing forth from the wound. He let out several gurgling sounds until his body finally submitted to death, and he was still. 
 
 Phil and I spent the rest of the day eating Ben in silence. He could n't bear to think about what he had just done to his own crew mate and barely ate anything. I, on the other hand, ate as much as I could. Delicious meat filling my body, giving me energy. I took a strange pride in how Henry and Ben had come to pass by my own doing, Phil not suspecting a thing. He posed no threat to me, but I could n't bear the thought of killing him without giving him a full account of the events that had taken place on the island. That night, while he slept, I approached him. I knew I would have to be quick, so with all my energy, I crushed his calf with my foot. His eyes bolted open and he shrieked in pain, looking up at me like a confused dog. He started frantically moving his other leg and his arms in a desperate attempt to escape, but I would n't allow it. I grabbed his good leg, dragged him until he was flat on the ground, and stomped it until it too cracked under the force of my foot. Over his screams of agony, I explained everything to him: how I had stolen rations, killed Jeremy and Henry, pinned the blame of Henry's death on Ben, and watched while Phil killed Ben even knowing that he had been completely innocent. His face showed several emotions at once: rage, betrayal, depression, all mixed in with the pain from his shattered leg bones. And finally, I told him that he would be next. 
 
 Phil is still alive as I write this. He refuses to eat or speak and has tried to kill himself a few times, but he's just too weak to do it. Good thing too; I have to keep him fresh for when Henry finally rots away. You may call me a sick, evil person for doing such things, but that is survival. I had no food, so I made food of my peers. Say what you will, but I lasted longer than any of them did. Even if nobody ever finds me, even when Phil's body rots away and I am left with nothing more to eat, remember that. Out of everyone on that God-forsaken ship, only I am left.
