My name is Mark Spinks. I'm a 33-year-old civil engineer from Salem, Oregon... or at least I WAS. I was engaged to be married until August of 2004, when my fiancee broke off the engagement a few weeks before our wedding date. Since I'd already bought the plane tickets for our honeymoon in Australia, I decided to go by myself. On September 22nd, I was on my way home on Oceanic Airlines Flight 815, when severe turbulance broke the plane apart and caused us to crash on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Initially 23 of us survived... but we discovered right away that we weren't alone. This is a journal I've been keeping of my experiences on the island since the day of the crash.
Well, I'd say my flight home from Sydney has gone horribly wrong. Apparently something caused the plane to break apart in mid-air and crash into the water, just off-shore of a deserted island! I guess I'm pretty lucky to be one of the less than ten percent of the passengers who survived and made it to the island. It appears that the only people who survived the crash were those of us in the very back of the plane. I don't even really remember what happened. All I remember is that about eight hours into the flight, I was starting to finally doze off, when we suddenly hit some really bad turbulance... and the next thing I knew, I was coughing up salt water and being helped to shore by some guy who spoke with a German accent. Once I reached the beach and assured the guy that I was okay, he went to help some people who looked injured, and then I looked out at the ocean and saw the tail of the plane going down.
So now I'm among 23 people stranded on this island, including two kids, with no food or water, hoping that a rescue team comes looking for us soon. Fortunately, somebody was able to start a signal fire so that they can spot us. But it's otherwise a pretty grim situation. I saw this one black guy dressed in a suit pulling a bunch of dead bodies out of the water. And while I do consider myself lucky to be one of the few survivors of the crash, I also can't help but think that I'd be home by now if I'd just stuck with my original flight home a few days ago. But anyway, that's about all the time I have for regrets. We need to start figuring out how to survive until the rescue boats get here.