He was too young; he spent all his time at school getting teased for eating bugs. How did this even happen?
He was only six, and somehow, he wound up alone in the wild bush of Brazil. He had been with his heavily-pregnant mother on the plane to Spain from Australia. He thought Qantas was the world’s safest plane.
He didn’t know it was even possible for planes to crash. Not while he was on it; him, a small child. His mother, pregnant.
Not many had survived the crash. His mother survived the crash, but had died weeks later. Some of the other survivors supported them, but eventually they all died of starvation or exhaustion.
He survived mostly on bugs. Desperation drove the others to it as well, but by then they were too weak.
He didn’t know if he’d survive out here. By now, he assumed no one was coming. He stuck around too long, so he moved on.
Living wild, the only good thing was that he hadn’t bathed in ages!
Luckily, he learned how to tie leaves together from some kids back at school, so he made a blanket weeks ago that he still carried around. He also had a knife, and some old fire embers. Plus, some emergency stuff from the plane.
Yeah, it was dangerous. But he was big now!
He found a river. He played in it, splashing around. Then he waded through it, ankle deep, following it wherever it was going. Maybe he could find something else to eat.
He wasn’t ever fast enough. Maybe he’d leave the river and find more bugs.
His energy sapped from lack of sleep. He dragged his feet.
He was gonna die out here. He ate more bugs.
“Who are you?”
He turned around. A girl in pink looked back.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“What are you doing here?”
“I live through there,” she pointed. “My dad’s a doctor. Wanna play with me?”
Prompt from Trifecta.