After my disappointment from seeing the tanker pass things have not been going so well. I am near my last days, I can tell. No longer can I take care of Richard Parker or do my chores, I am too weak. We are both sinking fast into our deaths and I await my last breath. Good bye Richard Parker, now I am off to see my loving family. My life is in the hands of God who I love and whom is love. Since my pen has died I have no way to let out my thoughts and I feel so alone. Writing in my journal was my way of staying sane; through my stories. It was my communication since there was no one else around. I'm waiting to die now, but there is a voice that I have not heard before . My recent blindness has set me back, but I know there was no one else on the boat. The voice has a french accent and I am confused, but I don't care who it is I just want to keep talking. When the voice fades away I have a sickening feeling and then it hits me. I'm not mad, the voice is Richard Parker. That carnivorous rascal! I'm glad to finally be on speaking terms with a tiger.
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