79. Nightmare Island
Not in the night, but when I was a teenager my friends and I liked to explore uninhabited islands. They’re called The Thousand Islands in the Indian River Lagoon. We camped, played paintball, pretty innocent fun. One day we decided to explore a new island for a fresh spot. We found a big one, so to save time, I was inserted on the southern end to explore while the others canoed around the island to see what there was to see.
The plan was for me to meet them on the north side. That did not happen. The island was a nightmare. Brambles, and bush so thick I had to belly crawl through the muck. The perimeter was a swamp with dead trees and god knows what lurking under the film of green algae. And then there were the skeletons. As I crawled my way up the island, I came upon skeleton after skeleton.
Turtles, raccoons, deer. That’s when it hit me; this is an alligator haven. I freaked out and made a break for the open water, not wanting to die. I yelled out as loud as I could, and fortunately, my friends heard me and paddled furiously out to me. I had made it only one-third of the way up the island and was thankfully extracted.
We named that one Nightmare Island and never returned.