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Amanda, you lived from the mid-1800's to the early 1900's. Around 1850 to 1940. Your name was Anna. I couldn't pick up your last name. You were born in England but attended boarding school in the US at the urging of you forward-thinking upper-class family. When you were 17, you were on a ship on your way home when the ship encountered a storm. It was wrecked, and you were among three survivors who washed up on the shore of an uncharted island somewhere off the coast of Africa.

I was another survivor. My name was Ella. The other survivor was a young man named Franklin. The three of us had no idea what to do, so we just sort of winged it. We tried to set up camp on the beach, using trees and sticks and leaves to try and form a shelter of some kind. For the first couple weeks, we lived on that beach, surviving off of vegetation that Franklin always tested first in case it was poisonous and tiny animals like birds and the few fish we managed to catch.

Then the natives found us.

...
Keep going...

Well, technically, we found the natives. We went out to explore the beach one day and when we came back, there was a small, dark-skinned, half-clothed child rummaging through our camp. We all debated for a minute what to do, but eventually you approached, the child took your hand, and he led us off into the jungle. We, of course, freaked out, but at the same time we continued following him. Eventually, he led us through the jungle to a clearing. There was a village of natives. They were dark-skinned, with long black hair that they only cut when it became an issue to their free movement. They spoke their own lanmguage, of course, so we had no way of communicating, and they thought we had tried to harm the child, so they were rushing at us with spears and weapons, and then I surged forward and held up one hand to them. They stopped, unsure of what I was going to do, and then I slowly touched my hand to my heart before extending it to the native closest to me, a young man. It was such a peaceful gesture that they laid down their weapons and offered us sanctuary.

Okay...
Wow. We've known each other for a while...

We have. But I'm not even halfway done.

We lived in their village, in our own hut. We slowly earned our place among the people. Franklin was the defender, the one who always looked out for everyone and always told us how he would fight for these native's rights if we were to ever get back to the outside world. You were the mother, who took care of all the children and nutured them. I was unlabeled. I learned all I could of their ways, and they learned all they could of ours, but I never allowed myself to fully assimilate to their way of life like you and Franklin did.

We told them that they would be much, much safer if they were to build a wall around their village. Predators would not be able to get in and they wouldn't have to worry about their children and their livestock. We proceeded to build the wall with them, and when it was finished a year later, we had a huge celebration for it.

But we were all destracted. We weren't paying attention, and a child slipped out of the walled village to chase after an animal or something. After a minute, we heard the boy scream, and we all took off after him. THe natives were making as much noise as possible, trying to scare away whatever it is that is hurting the child, waving flaming torches around and yelling and banging on trees. We reached the area where the child had been, but all we saw was a blood stain slashed across the trunk of a tree. His mother fell to her knees in tears. You and Franklin tried to comfort her, and I approached and took her face in my hands and I just stared at her, letting her know without words that I felt everything she did. I was still an empath even then, though I didn't know it at the time.

...What happened...?

We returned to the village. The mother never recovered from losing her child, and she hung herself after a couple years. You and Franklin married in a ntive ceremony, as did I marry the native man whose chest I had touched as a peace-gesture. You and Franklin had two children, both boys, and I had one child with the native man, a girl. We never left the island. We never wanted to. It... changed something in us. We grew there. We understood ourselves, and the way of the world, while we were there. It was strange, I remember saying to you one day. Strange that for us to understand the world and the earth around us, we had to leave it.

That island is now considered a part of the Canary Islands off the West coast of Africa.