Creepypastas

Log of Captain Kyle Wright

I dropped the binoculars and shook my head fiercely. It seems like a dream now, the whole thing. I think I cursed loudly, maybe it was silent, maybe only in my head. But the next thing I remember is spinning the wheel and holding on tightly as my boat whipped around. I hauled ass away from that burning boat. I only allowed myself to look back once and at that point it was only a pillar of smoke again. An hour later it was lost on the vast sea.

Something is happening out here, something bad. First the guns and then the damned boat. They were on fire! I can't get past the fact that the bastards were on fire!

I just want to get home. I just want to walk into my house and shout for my wife and hear her walk from the kitchen and then feel her in my arms. I want to see her. I want my damn wife.

But most of all I want to get off this damn ocean.

July 12, 2012

Unknown

Haven't had much to report since I saw the boat. Just open water. But I have been thinking a lot. The guns and boats have mainly faded out of my mind over the past weeks. They seem almost like a memory, they're shrouded in fog when I try to recall them. There may be a medical term for that, shock? Maybe, or it might just be that my mind is smarter than I give it credit for and has pushed those memories away so that I can focus on the task at hand. That task being getting the hell off this ocean. Why I ever decided to take this trip in the first place escapes me at this point. To clear my mind and find myself is what I told my wife and friends. Instead my mind is more clouded than it has ever been. Clouded with thoughts of home, with thoughts of my wife sleeping alone night after night in our bed, thoughts of growing wings and flying to her.

Why did I punish her? Why did I punish myself?

I still can't pinpoint my exact location. The GPS continues to flash the "searching" screen every time I turn it on. I was never good with a sextant, although I do have one on the boat. I never thought I would have to use the damn thing, that's what we have technology for. So it sits there and taunts me day and night, whispering to me that it knows where I am, all I have to do is ask it the right questions. But I can't, although I have tried. I've traced a rough course on the map thanks to my compass readings, so I have a very, very rough estimate of where I'm headed. I'm positive I've missed Hawaii already, but I think I can make it to the coast of the U.S. before the end of the month. The seas have been extraordinarily calm, almost too calm. And the sunrises have been strange as well. Some days they are blood red, reflecting on the still seas and painting the sky and water. At those times it looks as if my boat is cutting through a sea of blood. It was quite unsettling at first, but I've come to appreciate its beauty as of late.

I've neglected this journal for a while, but as I record this a weight seems to be lifting off me. It's nice to do something other than stare out at the water or constantly be reading the wind.

Food supplies okay for now, the fruits all spoiled but the cans will last for another month if I start rationing them. Hulls intact, main sail and riggings are holding, still headed home.

July 29, 2012

Off Coast of Oregon

Land! Goddamn land! My God, I never thought I would ever be so happy to see the pine trees of Oregon! Home at last, home at last, thank you Lord, I'm home at last.

First spotted it yesterday, just barely on the horizon. I was too far out to reach the coast before dark so I anchored where I was and waited for dawn. There's no lighthouses that I could see and I knew that if I tried to get closer with no GPS or means of seeing the coast in the dark I could very possibly crash. I'm so glad I'm still able to think clearly at this point, I've been living on beans and stale water for the past three days. The food went faster than I thought and the water I've been drinking is purified salt water. Hasn't rained since before the incident, which is damn strange for this part of the pacific. But to hell with it, I see the coast!