Though I’ve been gone for quite some time now, I can still hear the waves crashing down on the beach of that very island I was trapped on for the summer. Sleeping on a bed for the first time in 2 months is like heaven, yet no different than the sand I could hardly sleep on those first days of the crash. Still fresh in my mind, I will explain to you my eventful summer.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, wind blowing through my beautiful long hair, and the smell of rain running up my nostrils. Being at the airport this late wasn’t what I had expected for the plane was an hour or so late. The outside of the airport seemed wet and damp; the beginning of the summer was slowly awakening this year, too weak to beat the savage winter. The site of that giant monster of a machine preparing itself for what would become a surprisingly short flight was over whelming. I entered the cockpit of the massive plane and sat myself down, looking around at the many unfamiliar faces. I would wait another 30 minutes till take off; reading would be the best choice of entertainment. The engines started up with a sleepy groan and we started to slowly, steadily, cautiously move from our original position. As the nose of our plane lifted from the ground, my stomach did not, leaving a sickening feeling. I glanced out the window as my eyes fell upon rain droplets trying to break into the plane.
I was awoken by a thud and then complete darkness. Stillness so still, heart beats seem to stop. The next of the events seem to be a blur, but as I can recall, blinded by light and heat within the plane, the only senses I had left was touch and a bit of my hearing. As the seats and the walls protecting me from the outside of the plane seemed to disappear, I was hurled out of my prison and into hell. The outside world was as insane as our thoughts, racing through our head as fast as this tragedy had happened. I crashed down to earth or ocean, closing my eyes before impact.
The taste of salt water in my mouth was strong, though my mouth seemed so dry. Opening my eyes, I prepared for the worst but was surprised at what lay ahead of me. For the first time in many hours, I can see color. I got up as slowly as I could, with pain only in my left thy, how could I have survived such a thing? I can see the shrapnel from unrecognizable remains of the plane, as well as mangled corpses. Without speaking a word all day, night fell as I lay back down in the same sandy beach I am now deserted on.
From what I know, a month had passed and I had learned how to survive in such harsh conditions. In the meantime, I had sighted a raft and was preparing for a long journey out at sea.
20 days at sea, my skin in blistered from the heat, lost at sea. Was this really what I deserve? My sight slowly failing along with the rest of my body, I was unaware of what was to come.
I had been found as quickly as I had been lost, or so it had felt. In the two months that I was pronounced dead I was found sun burned and still bruised, looking like an alien, unrecognizable to those who knew me. I can remember arriving home, walking to my house, even though my legs still swollen and strained, I felt able to run a thousand miles.
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