Three days later, Palk lay on the soggy ochre sand, after being washed up on the shore of a mysterious island. As he regained his senses, he began to see and hear the aqua waves gushing onto his floppy blonde hair. All his hair gel had been washed out so now his hair looked like a raggy old mop. His vision was still blurry but even now he could still see no sign of life. With his muscles shaking, he stumbled to his feet. The sun's rays hit him like a laser beam warming him through! Where was? He began to explore the island. It looked like a paradise, so he ventured forth only to see an extraordinary sight; plants swirling in the breeze. But when he looked up, he noticed a giant aeroplane lodged in between a huge branch of a tree. He dashed over to the brown tree trunk but there was no way up. He kicked the roasting hot sand, which then showered back into his sapphire eyes. "Youch!" he shouted. His vision went blurry again and his eyes were sore. He stumbled about three feet to the left then fell over, and when his vision came to him again, he realised he hadn't fallen over, he had tripped on a gigantic maroon tree trunk with a thorny jade vine like a coiled viper. Mahogany thorns were as big as his hand. He then had a magnificent idea, the vine could be used as a ladder to shimmy his way up the tree, so he could get a better view. With his hands firmly gripped to the thorn, he extended his leg upward. Before he knew it, he was already at the top. He placed his hand to his brow and searched around. He had seen a girl sleeping in the aeroplane. She had ginger hair, green eyes, freckles and a black leather jacket, a vermillion t- shirt with an ashen skull imprinted on it and ripped denim jeans.
"Yes, yes!" he shouted doing a little jig. He looked up. There was an olive vine. He would swing across. He grabbed the vine above him and pushed off from the tree. "Ow yeah!" exclaimed Palk with his right hand thumping the air. He was too busy seeing the ground move underneath him and he did not notice that he was going to crash into the plane. "Help!" bellowed Palk. A charcoal dagger came rapidly shooting towards the prickly vine chopping it in two. Palk came plummeting down to the top of the aeroplane. The girl was holding an amber spear, "Talk," demanded the girl.
"Who are you, what are you doing here?"
"My name is Palk; my ship was stranded and I ended up washed up on this island."
Please check in next week for the third thrilling instalment of Prison in Paradise