Lost But Found
The sound of waves crashing against the sand… The sight of sunlight reflecting off the palm tree leaves...  All I could make out was the blurry view of a single island at shore. The fresh wound on my left leg stung from the salt water of the ocean; I don’t remember how I had hurt myself, but I did go through a lot of bumping and scraping when the airplane descended and crashed into the waters. The details of the accident did not bother me at the moment. My fatigued legs constantly kicked underwater to keep my body afloat, as I yelled with all my effort, “HELP! HELP!”
“Mom? Dad?” My eyes slowly opened, as I let out an exhausted yawn.
“You’re awake!” exclaimed an unfamiliar voice from the distance. I woke up from the bed, and turned around to see a pale-faced girl with piercing green eyes, who greeted me with a hospitable smile.
“Wh-Who are you?” I panicked, only now realizing that I was not at home, and I had not been sleeping in my comfy bed.
“I found you out at the shore of our island. You were completely unconscious at the time, so I brought you back to my place and put you to sleep. Do you remember any of that happening?”
So it wasn’t a dream after all. Instead of showing signs of gratitude, I muttered, “Who are you? Why am I here? Wh-where am I?”
“Nanannaron. And don’t worry, we’ll figure out how we can get you home. The only thing you should be concerned about right now is your recovery.” The girl sat down near the edge of the bed, “Here, have some of this,” she said, “You must be starving.”  She handed me a piece of bread from the tray placed on the nightstand. I nibbled on the treat, as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“I heard about the crash. That must’ve been such a traumatic experience for you—uh...” The girl tilted her head to the side, her furry eyebrows rising in curiosity.
“Oh, Andrea. Andrea Wilkos.”
“I’m Sharon.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Everything happened in the blink of an eye. I was napping, when I felt the plane descend quickly. The next thing I know, everyone was panicking and the oxygen masks dropped and dangled above our heads…”
“I’m sorry to hear about that...”
Fresh tears started to well up in my eyes and my voice wobbled as I spoke. “I need to go home. Get back to my family, my friends, my dogs. I should be with my parents right now.” I tried to get up from the bed and out the door, but the pain from my sore legs brought me back down.
“Hey, hey. You’re not going anywhere until you get better. By the looks of it, you most likely fractured your right foot, and your both your legs are covered with gashes. I’ll go out and ask around if there’s some kind of rescue team on their way. Just hang in there, okay?”
“Thank you.” I attempted a messy smile, while tears continued to stream down my cheeks.
As Sharon shut the door, I tried to remember everything I had been through over the course of a day. The plane that I was on had crashed into the sea; the passengers on the flight were either dead or missing. I somehow managed to make it on land, where I lost consciousness. And now, I was in a stranger’s home, stranded on an island in a foreign place. I knew for sure that nothing would be accomplished if I sat here on this bed, doing nothing. I used all the strength I had left, to stand back up on my swollen feet out the door, and down the hall.
“Sharon?” I called out, biting my lips afterwards to conceal the excruciating pain as I walked. I found Sharon idling about in the kitchen.
“Oh, Andrea! I told you not to get up.” She cried hesitantly. 
“You’re back already? Anyways, I wanted to help you to help me.” I smiled as I tried to make sense of the words that had just escaped my mouth.
“I just came back. I walked outside to ask the townspeople for help, I went to the shore and wrote all kinds of signals in the sand, but nobody seems to be here to rescue you.”
“And no one picked up when you called them on the phone?”
The confused girl paused for a moment, and then spoke. “Andrea…where are you from?”
“America.”                                                     
“Ah, and this America, what is it like?”
“Sharon, are you telling me you’ve never heard of America before?”
Sharon gave me a puzzled look, and slowly shook her head.
“Th-then how do you know what a plane is?” My brain was slowly starting to connect the puzzle pieces.
“I….don’t. I just assumed that it was some vehicle through your story of the accident. I-I was just embarrassed to ask. ”
All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head. Can this island even be found under the radar? Where am I? Would the rescue crew even be able to track me down?
I let out a hefty sigh. “It’s okay. So…what do you suggest we do now?”
Sharon frowned. “I guess the only thing we can do is wait.”
And so began the waiting. Sharon and I spent a lot of time together the next few days. We sat on the couch, where our polite conversation turned into a deep discussion about our lives. Sharon’s description of Nannanaron was strange. Nannanaron was strange. This island seemed like a country stopped in time. Technology was unheard of, and people lived a very primitive life. There was no government, no rule of authority in Nannanaron, so the people were expected to survive on their own. Despite not having a system in place, people in Nannanaron did not bother each other, nor advocate contact. True, they lived a quiet, simplistic life, but everyone seemed happy here on this island.
I told Sharon about the world I came from. I was eager to talk about my crazy, but loving family. I told Sharon about how annoying my older sister was at times, but I knew that she took care of me behind my back. My parents were mostly lenient and understanding, although, not very much so when I got in trouble. I asked Sharon about her family. “What about your family?” Sharon remained silent.
Sharon has been living by herself. Her parents had passed away when she was ten. Throughout the years, she learned to take care of herself on this island. Sharon learned to fix her own meals (vegetarian, because meat was very, very rare in Nannanaron), knit her own clothes, and kept herself busy. Sharon stayed home most days, which probably explained her paleness, despite the fact that she lived on a seemingly tropical island.
“Well! It’s already dark outside. Why don’t you go back to bed and get some rest? I will make you some tea?” Sharon suggested.
“You’re too kind.” I smiled with sincere gratitude.
A moment later, Sharon came in the room with a cup of tea. I had taken a few sips out of politeness, and sat on the bed as I got ready for bed. A sudden and unusual fatigue swept across me, as my vision became fuzzy and obscure. My eyes were forcibly being shut as all the energy in my body escaped.
The sun was setting over the horizon, and the warmth shone through the window and brushed over my face. I woke up to a sharp pain in my head. What in the world happened? I glanced at the windows, only to see that the sun was nearly setting. How long had I been sleeping? Something didn’t seem right. I limped out to the living room.
Sharon was nowhere to be seen. I called her name countless times, but there was no reply. Perhaps she’s outside. A distant sound interrupted my thoughts. Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! I opened the door to follow the source of the noise. Bleep! Bleeep! It was the sound of a whistle! It was getting louder, which meant it was heading towards our way. I ran out the door, both hands clutching the side of my numb legs.
I limped as fast I could, to the seashore, to where the sound was coming from. I could see a ship approaching the shore, and a girl jumping up and down, urgently signaling for help. It was Sharon! Sharon was signaling to the rescue ship that I was to be saved. I smiled to myself, thinking I was so grateful to be blessed with a person so eager to help me out. That moment did not last for long, however, when I saw Sharon walk aboard the boat. What is she doing? When I finally reached the shore, I yelled out, “Save me, please!”
A man on board squinted his eyes at me and replied, “Who are you?”
“Andrea Wilkos! My airplane crashed near this area around two days ago.”
The man scratched his head, glanced at Sharon and shot back at me.
“You can’t be Andrea Wilkos,” he gestured at Sharon, “She’s Andrea Wilkos!”
“WHAT?!” I yelled, confused. My mouth hung open in complete shock and betrayal, as I tried to make sense of the current situation. Sharon, that sneaky scoundrel, had taken my identity! I was dumbfounded, realizing that Sharon must’ve drugged me to get this far.
“Girls, I don’t know what’s going on here… I’ve only been told that one Andrea Wilkos has gone missing, so one of ya’ll ought to be lying.”
I stared at Sharon, hurt by an unexpected betrayal. 
“I’m Andrea from a small town back in America. I have an older sister and a younger brother. I also have two toy poodles, both girls.” Sharon exclaimed, perfectly concealing a lie.
The man had turned to look at me now, but all I had left to offer were my distressed tears. I just wanted to go back home.
“Sir, I do not care if I fail to prove that I am Andrea. Please, I really just need to go home. I want to be reunited with my friends and family again… I lost everything I had when I reached this place... but that’s nothing compared to losing the closest people in my life. I never thought I’d miss them this much, but now I realize how precious everyone in my life are to me. I need to get back.”
The old man looked into my tearing eyes, and had a look of sympathy on his face. He nodded his head as if he understood. He turned back at Sharon, and asked, “You were on the flight from Sacramento to Boston, correct?”
“Y-yes sir” said Sharon, in an uneasy voice.
“The Andrea Wilkos that I’m looking for has reportedly lived in Boston her whole life…is that true?”
“Yes. Y-yes, sir.”
“Tell me then, how long did it take you to get rid of your Boston accent?” the Captain chuckled.
“M-my accent? Well…I..” Sharon fell silent.
She quickly noticed the captain’s expression, and suddenly let out a frustrated cry.
“No, no, no! I’m Andrea Wilkos. She’s fake, captain! I-I swear!”
The man looked gravely into Sharon’s desperate eyes.
“Look, I don’t know who you are and what you think you’re doing, but stealing someone’s identity is a serious offense. I’m afraid you’ll have to get off, miss.”
“Wait….no! I-“ Sharon was at a loss for words, as she looked at me for help. But how could I possibly help the one who had drugged me, and attempted to leave me here?
I had finally climbed aboard the ship, and just as I had brushed past Sharon, she tightly grabbed onto my hand.
“Andrea, I’m so sorry... Please don’t leave me here!”
Stay strong, I clenched my fist. 
“I just got desperate when an outsider came to Nannanaron. That rarely ever happens. So I took advantage of your situation and I planned to escape my home as fast as I could. All my life, I have lived in Nannanaron. I have never been away from this island. But, the land you come from… Your land sounds so picture-perfect… I have nothing to lose here. No family, no friends.” Her grip on my arm tightened. I cautiously looked into Sharon’s teary eyes, and my own heart started to hurt along with Sharon’s sorrow and guilt. I realized that Sharon had been living an unimaginable life here at Nannanaron, looking after herself this whole time, so it was understandable that she was devoid of genuine emotions, of humanity. Sharon had made a mistake, like any other person, out of desperation and lack of morality, but the look in her eyes assured me that the girl’s apology was heartfelt, genuine.
Once again, the walls I had built up inside had broken down. I pulled Sharon up, as I cried, “Come back home with me. Don’t let me down this time around.”
Sharon gratitude was written across her face. Without saying anything, she hugged me so tightly, I could hardly breathe.
“I don’t know what to say...” Sharon let out the tears she had been holding back. As she hung her head low in shame, she quietly murmured, “Thank you, Andrea, thank you.”
The land of Nannanaron faded off into the distance, as the ship drew closer to home. “Do you smell that?” I asked Sharon, once I could see that we had nearly arrived.
Sharon spent a minute whiffing the late afternoon air, and suggested, “The smell of America?”
“No, it’s the smell of my pop’s homemade lemon pie,” I chuckled, “you’re coming to my home tonight.” Sharon laughed with me, and nodded in consent.