I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "There'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I am out of food, out of electricity power for the radio, and abandonded in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. I do not know how or what happened that led up to the plane crash all I know is that I managed to survive two weeks on the scraps I found in the plane and a nearby pond. This is my last statement to the world if anyone finds this, I am going to travel north where there seems to be a large forest. My plan is to look for any sort of food I can find, wether it be bugs or berries. When the plane went down I checked to see if anyone else had survived but they were all burnt to a crisp. I somehow managed to be thrown from the plane upon impact and landed in the snow. Some would call it a blessing but since no one has found me it is more of a curse because I have been stuck in a living hell hole for two longs weeks. The nights were deathly cold, and the days blinding bright from the reflected sun off the snow. I will try my best to survive. But if I do not make it.