`THE CRASH

[Dorian St. Pierre]

DAY ONE - AFTERNOON - RIGHT AFTER THE CRASH

It seemed as though the entire beach had erupted in crimson flame. Although the nearly cloudless sky above was a stunning shade of baby blue, it was completely hidden by a massive layer of thick, black smoke. The remnants of the airplane were scarred haphazardly around the shoreline, most of which were burning in the inferno. The fuselage had broken into two segments; the larger of the two, which contained the cockpit, rested on the beach, ablaze. The latter had broken off during the plane’s descent, crashing into the blue ocean, about a mile offshore. One of the twin jet engines had exploded upon impact, while the other, which had not been completely destroyed, continued to spin, churning the blanket of smog.

The scene was tremendously loud, which could be attributed to not only the roar of the surviving jet engine, or the crackling of the burning wreckage, but the screaming and the crying of the individuals who had not been killed in the crash. Nearly thirty of the original sixty travelers, all teenagers bound for a summer oceanography camp off the coast of Australia, populated the smoldering beach. The majority of which had sustained injuries and, at present, it seemed as though nobody had any background in first aid.

Dorian St. Pierre lay unconscious at the epicenter of the inferno, which had once been the plane’s fuselage. Dorian had sustained a deep gash above his right eyebrow when he had been thrown out of his seat upon impact. But besides this laceration, Dorian had, miraculously, no other visible injuries. Feeling a strange heat on his cheek, Dorian woke and instantly began chocking, due to the unbearable amount of smoke inside the fuselage. The twenty-three year old's head pounded, as if he had been hit over the head by some unknown object. Still coughing and gagging, Dorian peered through the smoke, looking for an exit. His salvation came by way of a broken window, which had obviously been broken by another survivor for a similar purpose. Getting to his feet, Dorian felt his way towards the exit, his eye useless and watering due to the smoke.

Coughing profusely, Dorian finally found the makeshift exit and made his way outside, which was just as saturated with smoke as the interior of the fuselage.

The entire beach was ablaze. People were scattering away from the wreck, some finding their way out of the inferno and some coming up out of the waters offshore. Most were injured, some with minor scrapes and some with life threatening injuries. The skyline was obscure with smoke and nearly everyone was screaming or coughing profusely. It was terrible. The entire scene was heart wrenching.

Coughing roughly, Dorian made his way up the beach, away from the burning wreck. He grabbed his head. He had a splitting headache, probably because a suitcase had bashed into his head on impact. Dorian turned to look at the inferno, taking it all in. Gasping, for the first time Dorian truly appreciated the magnitude of the disaster. The very fact that some of them had survived was a miracle. Students continued trickling out of the plane and all of them appeared to be badly burnt. “Some people could still be trapped inside…” Dorian thought to himself.

Suddenly, instinct kicked in. He ran to the ocean, took off his shirt, and soaked it in the warm salt water. Dorian tore the shirt into pieces, making sure each section was thoroughly drenched. He took two of the pieces and wrapped them around his hands, and tied the third around his face, in a pathetic attempt to protect him from the smoke and fire. “I’ve got be out of my mind!” Dorian said aloud, as he ran towards the wreck. By now most of the students who could walk had emerged from the plane, and there wasn’t anyone trying to get out as Dorian made his way through the makeshift exit. Coughing terribly, Dorian entered the blaze.

The entire fuselage smelled like death. There were burning bodies everywhere; it seemed like no one still inside the fuselage was left alive. “Is anybody in here!?” Dorian screamed, barely audible over the roar of the fire. Then Dorian heard it. Someone moaned out from the front of the plane, towards the cockpit. Pushing a cart out of his way, Dorian fought his way towards the cockpit. “Hey!” Dorian called out. “Can anybody hear me!?”.

“In here…” Someone moaned. Pushing in the door, Dorian found himself in the cockpit. The entire room smelled like gasoline and Dorian spotted the pilot pinned down, with a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his side. “Please….. Help Me!” The man called out, barely conscious.

“Hold on!” Dorian yelled. Dorian pulled the piece of metal away, nearing burning his hands, freeing the man’s leg. “Can you walk?” Dorian yelled out. The man shook his head. “Ok. Hold on!” Dorian struggled to pick the pilot up over his shoulder and struggled to carry the man out of the cockpit, wondering the whole time if the fuselage would explode. Coughing profusely, Dorian made his way back out to the beach, and collapsed, near a blond girl. Everyone that could be saved was out of the plane…

[rach]

The first thing she could hear were screams. Then, crackling fire. She could smell smoke. She could...see smoke.

Well, sort of anyway.

Erkia McClain just barely opened her eyes to a scene she wished immediately she had never seen. There was scrap metal everywhere from the plane. Sections of the aircraft she had just been pleasantly flying on, sipping a ginger ale while browsing sky mall for the latest in useless merchandise, were on fire, and collapsing in on itself. She shut her eyes for a moment again, moaning with pain as she suddenly began to feel.

She must have suffered some sort of concussion. She wiggled her fingers and toes to make sure they were still ten of each. But, what was that she felt underneath her... sand...? She opened her eyes again, to the extent she could open them, which was much more of an effort than it should be, to see a perfect blue ocean spread out before her. In any other situation, she would have been ecstatic to see such a sight, but right now, right here, the ocean was the last thing she wanted to see. Ocean meant island, like all those thriller movies you paid way too much to see where a bunch of kids are stranded forever on a tiny spit of land, and end up eating each other and stuff. Erika did not particularly feel like eating anyone at the moment, or, like, ever.

She tried to get up, really, she did, but her limbs just weren’t paying any attention to what her brain was telling them to do. Desperately pushing against the sand, she ended up just sinking a little. Alright. So, she was too weak to get up, probably from being thrown out of a hurdling plane onto a beach. Maybe a few broken ribs, obviously some large sort of gash on her leg, since she looked down and saw more blood than should be there for just a little wound. Okay, she could accept that. She was training to be a nurse after all, she could probably get herself back together, if she could ever force herself to get up. Pushing against the persistently shifting sand, she rolled over onto her back, moaning again from the pain.

Immediately after closing her eyes again, they shot open, as the shouts of a man became louder and louder, until she heard, and saw, the very man dragging a wounded person towards her. So, there were other survivors. Okay, obviously there were since the first thing she heard was screams, but hey, her mind was a little slow today. She had just crash landed on an island, after all. She tried to speak to the man, who had just laid down in exhaustion beside her, but all that came out were a few coughs. Ugh. This was going to be more difficult than she imagined.

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[katatonic]

Blue surrounded her. There was no air to aid her lungs. There was no way of knowing which way was up or down, left or right. Katherine struggled; she flailed around in the blue abyss, unable to make sense of her situation. Finally, she broke to the surface and sucked in huge gulps of air before she was thrown under again by an enormous wave. Katherine tumbled under the water and surfaced once more. How had she gotten in the ocean? She spun in the water and saw the pandemonium that took place on the beach, fire burned everywhere, people screamed. Katherine began to advance to shore, riding the waves as best she could as not to drain her energy.

At last, Katherine hit the shoreline, the sand scraped harshly at her stomach. A searing pain seized her for the moment and her eyes widened at the sight of her left arm. Fire from the plane had managed to take a few licks at it before she was catapulted into the blue waves. She lay there in the sand, as she gasped for breath. Then everything went black.

Katherine was in the plane again, sitting diagonally from Dorian St. Pierre. Every few minutes she would glance up from her book to sneak a peek at him. She had been sent to kill him and kill him she would. A smile played across her pink lips at the thought of finally completing this extensive assignment. She pretended to read her book again and after a few minutes she glanced up at him. That’s when the plane broke a part and she was thrown into the indigo waves.

Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself farther up the beach. Someone must have dragged her away from the water that greedily licked the shoreline. She heard moans and screams from her left. Slowly, she shifted onto her stomach and pushed herself up from the ground, only to fall back down again from the searing pain of her arm. Katherine lay there for a few moments then used her legs to push herself up. She zig zagged toward the other people, unable to walk in a straight line, her head pounded and she couldn’t hear anything out of her left ear. Surely, she looked like a drunk trying to run. Smoke stung her eyes and filled her lungs as she neared the wreckage.

Katherine searched the beach and spotted a dark-haired man lying next to a blond near the water. It was Dorian. The plane crash was only an obstacle in her mission, she could and she would survive it, no matter the circumstances. She would kill Dorian even if it meant putting herself in harm’s way. Katherine had started to walk toward him and only when it was too late did she see the brown-haired girl on the ground. Katherine tripped and stumbled over her, she face planted into the white sand.

[jonny]

Jay felt his heart beat deeply within his chest trying to give fuel to the panic that was pulsing through his body but he wasn't going to allow that. Taking a deep breath he allowed his eyes to open, blinked twice and managed to see a small object above him. He frowned as he felt the ground beneath him, soft heated grains of sand. Without having time to question it the flying object he had spotted collided into the ground, bouncing a few feet in the air before coming to a rest next to his feet. An involuntary yell erupted from his throat once he locked onto the object seeing for the first time that it was a single seat from a plane, it's previous occupant however had never left it. A slightly burnt male was slumped forward his chest bleeding slightly from where the belt had cut into his slightly large chest. "No" he gasped seeing his deceased dad's form before his eyes.

Although both weak and drained he managed to force himself upright brushing some of the golden grains from his shirt and moved away from the figure who now looked like a complete stranger, just someone who he had seen getting onto the plane. He could of sworn the man for a split second was his father but that had to be impossible. His mind flashed back to a hospital, he was next to his father both of them sitting opposite a tall red haired female doctor whose mouth was speaking yet no words came out, then the doctor turned to Jay her face distorted into a scared version of her previous herself screaming in such a forceful manner that the male student fell back against a rough texture he quickly discovered was a tree. He knew what that memory was about but the screaming hadn't been there ever before, he now understood why. The screaming was real.

Racing out of a small opening between the however many acres of forest and the beach he was stopped him his tracks. Where was he? That he didn't know but one thing was clear. He had just survived a plane crash. Jay stumbled forward moving between broken parts of the plane, flames dancing on various objects, suitcases, clothes, bottles, crushed food and some unmoving bodies. He scanned the beach seeing various people moving away from what was left of the cockpit but knew that a lot more couldn't do a thing whether it was out of shock or not.

Thinking he must be crazy he soon found himself next to various occupants checking their pulse, vital signs but most of all making sure that they could still move. Those that were just shocked he managed to alert telling with with slightly more force then he intended to that they needed to move, the plane could explode at any moment. While things burnt, the beach wasn't safe. Heck until they knew where exactly they were the Island wasn't safe either. "Move, get away from here" he yelled out to the crowd pulling a few people to safety "Get away from the plane! This thing could explode, you don't want to be near it if it does"

Pain slowly crept into Jay's head upon which he looked down seeing a small piece of glass which had punctured the lower part of his calf, grinding his teeth together he quickly pulled spilling a small splatter of blood onto the sand. Ripping what remained of his torn up jacket he wrapped it round his leg keeping the wound away from all the sand which would only make it worse. He managed to direct his attention at the rest of the plane but saw no other movement thus made his way toward a few collective trees which he leaned against as he dropped to the floor hissing slightly as the male began to look at his own wound.

[thyme]

So this is how I die.

The thought was fuzzy, as if someone had blown smoke in his eyes and clouded his vision, as if something had hit him very hard across the back of his head, making it painful to think and impossible to move. There were no scents, no sights, nothing except the vague idea that he was surrounded by something cool and soft that moved freely beneath him, and that thought. It echoed off the sides of his skull again, and again, and again. So this is how I die... this is how I die... this is how I die.... how I die... The cool substance all around him shifted a little to the left, carrying him that way. Now D had the sense that he was moving very slowly, as if he was floating. Had he his wits about him, he could have formulated a hypothesis about the nature of the substance and have it identified in less than a minute. But he hadn't, and instead he slipped into darkness again, losing even the sensation of that gentle substance moving him along, almost as if he was floating in water.

A faint dream came to him in his unconsciousness, edging in at the edges of his sanity. He was sitting in his room at college, room perfectly organized except for the huge science textbooks flung randomly across the floor. Music was playing in the background -- Chopin, he thought with mild surprise -- but it was coming from the common room instead of from the open laptop on his knees. He got up, setting the computer down on his desk, brushing the crumbs off of his long-sleeved t-shirt. There were a lot of them, he noticed, far too many. He had only eaten one pack of cookies, although they were admittedly very good, and certainly hadn't left that much of a mess. Leaning down to pick up the trash bin in order to see if he really had forgotten how many sweets he had had that day, a good deal of the crumbs started pouring out. D frowned, perplexed, and reached out his free hand, catching some of the crumbs. Under close inspection, however, they weren't bits of broken-off cookies -- they were grains of sand. He made to take a step, but that hurt like all hell and he nearly crumpled to the floor before he caught himself. Sand poured out of his sleeves and shook itself out of his hair and suddenly it was everywhere. It was in his socks -- where were his shoes? -- and beneath his fingernails -- was that blood or dye? -- and everywhere around him -- was that the carpet, beneath the sand? It clung to him like glue and no matter how hard he fought to catch his breath and calm down, he was panicking. The door split in two with the weight of it all, and the windows to his left burst and sand poured out of them, too. It was drowning him, choking him, swallowing him, burying him alive, and he was sinking into it faster and faster the more he struggled. The light of the lamps faded slowly as the sand closed in above him, leaving him to die there in the dark with no sensation or thoughts or...

He woke up screaming, his own voice mingled in with so many others.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear voices saying coherent things, but that was much too far away for any sense to be made of them. D opened and shut his eyes a few times, hoping foolishly that he wasn't where he thought he was. His mind had, however, already organized the facts and presented them neatly to himself with such perfect proofs that it was impossible to deny what had happened. There had been a plane crash and few had survived it -- or, at least, few would survive it, judging by the screams coming from somewhere off to his right. They had been over an ocean, although he didn't know which, so it logically followed that this was an island relatively far from any other civilized area. And, lastly, that there was a distinct possibility that he had been aware of this the entire time. After all, the sand from the beach he was lying on really was in everything, just like in his dream, and the gentle substance that had carried him along must have been water. A seat cushion had washed up next to him, leading him to wonder if that silly piece of uncomfortable furniture had really saved his life.

D pulled himself up laboriously, gritting his teeth as his left leg screamed in protest. It felt like it was cracked in half -- funny how it acted that way, too; it was bent sideways at the knee, like it had turned too far inwards. It took more willpower than he had known he had to get himself sitting upright -- especially with only one arm, because the other one was numb from lying on it. Nor did he want to try and explain to himself why his white pants were now red. It wasn't all his blood that had dyed them that color; if it had been, he wouldn't be conscious any more. That fact made it worse, though, and D tried to focus on other things. All those coherent people who had been saying coherent things when he first woke up were still at it, and although his head was killing him and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and let the fish take him away, he knew he had to live. He still had twenty years of life left. You can take my chance at life away, he accused Fate fiercely as he dragged himself towards the others across the sand. You can give me a death sentence and you can try and make me miserable. But don't you dare take away what years you've given me! As he approached a group of trees where someone was sitting, his leg limiting him to literally dragging himself across the sand at a snail's pace, D felt himself start to tremble in pain and fear, and felt the edges of his thoughts clouding again. Choking back a sob every time he moved, he watched the others run and cry and panic through his own tears. Somehow, he didn't have the energy to call out for help -- You have a pair of red pants, he reminded himself with surprising clarity of thought, given his state -- but he knew that, if he kept moving, however slowly, someone would see him.

[jessica]

”...they’re making us turn off our phones now. Ugh, it’s so annoying you can’t be on your phone on planes. Like, what else is there to do for a billion hours? Anyway, whatever. this bitchy flight chick is bitching at me, I’ll text you later Liv. Kiss kiss!”

With that, Jessica hung up the phone, giving the flight attendant an annoyed look. “God, it’s off! Chill out.” She rolled her eyes, shoving the phone in the attendant’s face as though to prove that the blackened screen was indeed turned off. The blonde pulled a compact mirror out of her purse after the flight attendant left (clearly ignoring the ‘please stow all carry ons’ request), checking her perfectly coifed hair before re-applying her peach-colored lip gloss. Peach was so in this season, and Jessica, personally, was a huge fan; peach just happened to go perfectly with her coloring. Final make-up check complete, Jessica tucked her Chanel purse under the seat in front of her after pulling out her oversized black sunglasses. Most people might have questioned why she had sunglasses on an airplane, but Jessica had a thing about people watching her sleep, but wasn’t about to ruin her eye makeup with an eye mask, so always flew with a pair of sunglasses. She slipped them on, reclining her seat once it was announced that they were allowed to. The guy next to her gave her an odd look, and Jessica pushed the sunglasses down her nose, giving him a ‘you got a problem, dorky?’ look over the rim of her sunglasses, “What?” She asked with a touch of irritation in her voice. He shrugged and went back to minding his own business. Jessica shook her head and muttered something under her breath before shoving the sunglasses back up her nose, leaning back against the head rest and closing her eyes.


Sand. Sand, and a searing headache. Jessica groaned as she opened her eyes to sand, and a searing headache. Wait…what? She was lying on her stomach, face-first in the sand. Everything smelled like blood and smoke, and there were screams everywhere. Having no idea how she got from the plane to where she was now—or even any idea where the plane was—Jessica moved her hands through the sand up to rest under her shoulders, using her hands to push herself up into a sitting position. What the hell? Was this just some bad dream? She knew that watching Inception with Liv had been a bad idea… Damn movie made no sense, and now she was having weird dreams about it… She looked around a little, eyes coming to rest on a burning plane not more than five feet away from her. Burning plane…That wasn’t in Inception….And wait, couldn’t you not feel pain in a dream? Or maybe you could, Jessica couldn’t remember. She put a hand up to her head to brush a trickle of water off her forehead, felt pain, and stopped. Pulling her hand away from her head cautiously, Jessica saw her hand covered in blood, and did the only logical thing to do: started screaming.

Panicking, she scrambled to stand up, starting to run away from the plane. Dizzy from standing up too fast, Jessica only got a few steps before her foot caught on a broken piece of metal, and she fell over a broken-off part of the plane’s wing, the jagged edge of the metal catching on her sleeve as Jessica threw her arms out to catch her balance, the metal ripping through the light corduroy and flesh, leaving a long cut up her right arm. She landed in the sand on the other side of the wing, on top of what looked more like a dead body than anything she’d ever seen before. Screaming again, Jessica scrambled off of the body, crawling a little ways through the sand before standing up and half-running-half-limping away again, still screaming, until she got to where she figured was a far enough away place, not too far from a group of trees where some guy—who was clearly alive, thank god—was. Dropping down to sit in the sand, Jessica kept screaming, seeming to be unable to decide whether to scream or cry, and deciding on both.

[rayne]

Christina hated to fly and now that she had lived through this, she would probably never do it again. The memory of the crash was choppy and disorienting. Like trying to fast forward through a horror movie while riding a Tilt-A-Whirl. The screams were deafening and the smoke disorienting. The groan and screech of the metal breaking and peeling away from itself was the worst yet. Her mind could not catch up with the sequence of events, but her body automatically responded, bracing itself for impact whether it be with water with the ground. As with the other passengers, she was lashed around and the restraints were unable to take the force and she was flying -- well, falling. Where there used to be a the wing of the plane was now just a gaping hole.

The next moment she was tumbling through water, so disoriented and panicked that she did not know which way was back to the surface. The salt water burned all of her air passageways while she did her best not to inhale any more water until she broke surface. The water roared in her ears and seemed to drown out the cries for help. It was probably that moment that Miss Moriarty had resigned that she was not destined to die at that moment. The moment of strange serenity, though it seemed like an eternity she was under the rolling waves of the ocean. It was very much like in the movies, where you can hear the internal monologues of the famous hero where they are trying to consider all of the possibilities and the outcomes that they would possibly have. Or when you see a montage of flashbacks through the good things that they had experienced through life. It was different for Christina -- she realized that she had not even lived long enough to die. She has yet to get some sort of political seat with the United States government and has not been even considered for the many internships that she was hoping to pursue while she pursues her career in law. The world had not gotten to experience her greatness, and that was in lame-man's terms, a crying shame.

When she finally did break the surface of the water, her legs and arms waved wildly as she paddled in the direction of the white sandy shore and away from the wreckage. Her ears were still ringing and sounds were dull, but she could recognize that people were yelling all around her and the crackle of fire was prominent on all levels. She sputtered and coughed, expelling the inhaled water from her lungs and did her best to move towards shore. Once her feet were able to find the surface she pulled herself onto the sand and collapsed.

It was there that she lost consciousness for a while, either from a concussion or shock from the whole situation. It would be long moments later that she would reawaken, trembling and frightened as if she were waking up from a nightmare. Little did she know that she was in the nightmare and still living it. Her body ached like never before and her clothes were still very damp from her encounter with the ocean. Heaving a deep breath, she sat herself up, trying to keep herself from passing out once more. She saw people starting to gather along the beach, staring out in disbelief at the wreck. And they survived. It is all just mind-boggling.

[samantha]

Oh no. No, no, no. This didn't happen, this didn't just randomly happen to people out of the blue, and it certainly wasn't something that she had signed up for when she got on the plane. She could forget about the searing pain, and the sensation of liquid that dripped down her back at the time, because as she shakily stood there, the sights and smells she was inhaling were enough to keep her distracted. That and the fact that she'd managed to do a good number on her back from the explosion had yet to really properly go through her mind. Sam had been to juvie, she'd been to a place that for three years of her life she'd considered a living hell, but as she looked around this sandy beach, with the bodys laying about and the horrid smell of oozing gas and fire, she wasn't sure she'd ever quite experienced death in a manner like this.

The only other time Sam had felt such an overwhelming amount of death, was when she'd been at her grandfather's hospital bedside, and that had been the only time she had wanted to see death like that. "Shit." the words were hoarse, and as she spoke her throat felt like it hadn't had a sip of anything for days, while in fact it'd probably only been a few hours since she'd had a sip of the water she's received from the plane. Shortly after that, she couldn't remember anything, and had found herself waking up to the sights before her. Needless to say, Sam was in shock, otherwise she probably would have been freaking out about the deep cut along her back as well as the pounding in her head, if not the sights around her as well.

Rubbing her throat, Sam found herself taking sloppy steps forwards through the heated sand and biting down on her cut bottom lip. Flinching, she brought a shaking hand to her lip and dabbed the cut and stared at the blood, she was...bleeding? It was that that sent off the trigger in her mind that her lip was not the only place that she was bleeding, seeing as the shirt she was wearing was now starting to soak up blood from the cut along her back. "Fuck!" she yelped and could feel herself stumbled to the ground and her breathing picking up. Though whether this was because of the bleeding and pain now fully running through her, or an actual panic attack Sam really wasn't sure. She just knew that there was no way of going back, and that now she was not only in a bad place, but she was injured as well. Maybe not dead, but her own common sense knew that if she didn't stop the bleeding she was a goner for sure.

If it hadn't been for the yells of getting away from the plane, Sam probably would have never even thought of getting away. Or that there were people up enough to really be able to even instruct others what to do. It might have been silly, but it was something that sent a sort of sense of relief through her, and while she pushed herself back up, and the pain caused her to bite back down on the lip, she forced herself to keep moving. There was no way that she was about to let herself stay behind, or be forgotten with the bodies of so many others that lay motionless in this sand. This place would always be imprinted on her memory, Sam knew that she would never be able to go to any sort of beach now, without remembering the thick smell of gas and death, not the beauty of the ocean of the scent of the sea that she'd always treasured.

She could see the group of people now, and as she tried to swallow, to try and clear her throat of its hoarseness, she raised her hands as if to try and gain some sort of attention. To know that there was still someone else coming, "Hold up!" she tried to call out, as she picked up that pace she could feel a sensation of dizziness rush through her head as she moved to a sort of trot. Clearly, the fast movements were things that her head and back did not agree with, but those were matters she could deal with once she was with this group of people, people that had been on the same plane as her and probably only a matter of seats away from where she'd been sitting before this nightmare had begun.

word count. seven seven four. tag. everyone. notes. woo~ first post.

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[jordan]

Jordan’s eyes flickered open to squint through the smoke at a blue sky. Her first instinct was to close her eyes again and deal with whatever was burning later, but she was confused. She had gotten on a plane to New Zealand with the extra money, then… then, she couldn’t remember. She had probably fallen asleep or something. It took a few seconds for her to notice the screaming. Jordan knew she should help in a perfect world, but for the moment, she was more concerned about herself. She opened her mouth to cry for help, but closed it again before she could. She might not be able to trust these people; one never could be quite sure.

Her fingers dug into the sand and she sat up slowly, wincing as her head cried out for mercy. Yes, the plane had crashed. It was hard for her to see through the smoke and the distance, but some of them had appeared to escape relatively unscathed. She slumped back down into the sand to wait and figure out what to do. Jordan wasn’t sure what was going on with the others, but she was saving her strength for the moment. Even if she didn’t make it to the larger group and the plane quickly, it would give her time to sort out what was going on. She knew that this was most likely an island, but beyond that, she was clueless. Jordan had a quiet theory working out in the back of her mind. There couldn’t be any normal residents, she was relatively sure of that. If there were, they would certainly have noticed a plane crashing onto their island.

For a second, she considered wandering off on her own, but discarded the idea. The people who had survived would at least have some supplies, hopefully, that could be salvaged from the plane. There was a piece of glass protruding from her arm and another embedded in her right leg, though, which needed some kind of medical attention. With any luck, someone would know how to safely take them out. Besides, if she later decided she couldn’t trust the rest of them, she could always steal the supplies and disappear.

As a last attempt for other options, Jordan reached for her phone, automatically searching in her pocket where her phone had always been. It was gone now though. Jordan stood up unsteadily, ignoring the protests of her legs. She began stumbling towards the plane and the strangers near it. After a few steps she could tell she wasn't going to get all the way to the plane. She had apparently fallen a little ways away from the plane during the crash. There were other people there who she could hear talking, but they were too far for her to hear their words. Jordan had a sinking feeling that even if she miraculously found her phone, it wouldn't do much good without service, but she kept walking for a few more feet before giving up and sitting back onto the sand.

[katatonic]

Katherine picked herself up again, pretended that she had never fallen in the first place and continued to make her way to the plane. Once again, she swayed and stumbled to the wreckage like a drunk. She ignored the pain in her throat and arm because she knew that she had to get her carry on bag out of that plane before it exploded. Katherine panted as at last she reached the beginnings of the flaming fuselage. She slowed down and cautiously picked her way through. Bodies lay motionless everywhere, pieces of glass lay shattered and spread about on the ground. Most people probably would have been traumatized by the sight of it, but Katherine couldn't care less, because she wasn't at all like most other people.

At last, she stood just outside the half of the plane where she had been sitting. Before she went in she took the shirt off the closest dead body and wrapped it around her mouth and tied it behind her head. Then, she made her way in. Smoke was in the air and it was impossible to see anything so Katherine lay on her stomach and did the army crawl to where she thought her seat was. On her way there she encountered a dismembered arm, she shoved it out of the way and continued to her seat. Finally she reached it and saw the magazine that she had been "reading" was aflame. Her bag sat next to it, about to be a victim to the fire. That wasn't going to happen though. Katherine snatched up her bag, avoiding the magazine's flames by a hair. Then, Katherine got up and leaped through the aisle and out of the plane.

"Yes!" Katherine whispered triumphantly and sighed in relief. She took off the shirt that she had wrapped around her mouth and stuffed it in her bag then she found her way out of the wreckage. She spotted a few trees that sheltered a young man. Katherine decided to make her way over there. The pain in her arm and everywhere else hit her all at once and Katherine needed to rest. She reached the trees and leaned against one of the trunks and slid down to a sitting position. She ignored the man next to her and unzipped her bag. Katherine sifted through it, saw her pocket knife, a pair of sneakers, a water bottle and her cell phone. But there was no service here so it was no use to her so she chucked it towards the wreckage.

Katherine took a swig of the water bottle and then splashed the rest of it on her arm. It felt like she was getting burned all over again, but she just clenched her teeth and took the pain. Then, she used the shirt she had taken earlier and wrapped it around her burn as effectively as possible. Finally, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

words: 489
tags: Jay
notes: none

[jonny]

He wrapped the make shift bandage around his leg tighter ignoring a stab of pain and the small collection of blood. "This is great, this is just great. What have we done to deserve this?" he asked no one in particular wanting to shout the quote across the sandy terrain. He stopped himself however he needed to be calm, to think what to do next or he wasn't going to be in a positive mood for the rest of his stay on the island.

Jay had never heard sounds quite so loud, his ears were practically thudding. The screams went straight through him merging together to form some sort of static like noise which circled his form. He thought about walking further into the forest to get away from the utter chaos still roaming the beach but found his body not willing to move. People had just died, some of them he could of bumped into or had a small conversation with, some could of even sat next to him. No. He wouldn't leave the beach. Out of respect for those that had died he wouldn't leave until it got dark, unless they got rescued by that point.

A scream close to him drew his mind away from his thoughts instantly pulling his stare towards a blonde female close by. She was clearly in shock. Although she looked physically fine, as fine as someone could look from a crash Jay knew probably more than most just how much shock could affect someone. The countless books that he had flipped open during his studies, the aroma of freshly created pages remained in his brain, the information pulsing with his heart. He pressed against the rough texture of the palm tree finally coming to the decision that he needed to go over and talk to the female, there must of been something he could do. At least that was his plan until another dark haired female walked past sitting near him, paying no notice to the male whatsoever.

He was torn. Help someone who was near him and quiet or the screaming female across the sand. Taking into consideration everything Jay decided that he would first help the silent one, with how loud the other female was being someone would have to find her. "Are you hurt?" he asked raising his brow. Slowly he felt the beating of his heart restrict slightly allowing him breathe the fresh air around him though he soon regretted it. The only air that filled his lungs was a smoky almost charcoal flavored one causing him to cough out into the sand. "Eugh god" he gasped hitting his chest gently.

The male couldn't help but let a small smile appear on his features at the irony of the whole event. That emotion quickly passed once he clocked the beach watching the metallic pieces of the plane glisten against the sun, black smoke rising into the sky. "Can you believe this?" he asked feeling the need to just say something to break the silence even if it was just pointless conversation, god only knows how the girl was feeling "I'm Jay by the way"

words: 524
outfit; click
tag: Katherine & Everyone else there.
notes:Hope it's okay.

[dezzie]

The feeling that one gets when your heart is literally being swallowed by your stomach, is not a pleasant one. With that comes adrenaline coursing through your veins, your eyes dilating the necessary size for survival. A surge of energy races through your body making you feel and seem invincible. It was a feeling that Maddy Black was used to. However not under the present conditions. She was swimming. But not in a pool or nearby shore on a beach. She was almost half a mile away from shore, kicking as fast as she could to reach land. To reach life. She couldn't remember what had happened on the plane, but she did know that she was possibly the only survivor. Something wrong had happened, but she just couldn't understand or think about it then. She needed to get to the sand, away from the water that seemed to be consuming her farther to sea instead of closer to land.

She was mentally confused and exhausted, but her body kept on paddling. Her athletically fit body was nowhere near tired and instincts took over while her head remained throbbing with a headache. Closer and closer she wished she was to shore, and as she almost felt like giving up, she felt waves beginning to form around her. It was then that her mind clicked. Without hesitation and much gratitude, Maddy swam faster and faster as a wave began to form behind her. She then let her body be carried into the shore, riding the wave as her now exhausted body grew limp. As she swallowed one last deep breath, she allowed the wave to carry her, only this wave was a bit too big and strong to her liking. She opened her eyes to see if her plan was working, to see if she could see the shore to be only several feet away. But the wave broke and crashed on top of her, making her body roll and tumble within the strong current.

She resumed using her limbs to swim to the surface and as she did, another wave broke on top of her, sending her back down. She needed air, that wonderful sweet gas of oxygen. It was only a matter of time before her lungs would begin burning and she would have no choice but the instinctively breath in whether it was pure air or not. She swam up to the surface again, and was able to inhale quickly. She could see the shore was much closer than before and she was right in using mother nature to aid her. Maddy kicked and paddled again, this time ducking underneath the water whenever she looked back to see a wave breaking nearby. During one final paddle, she found herself struggling as a current was sucking her back in. No... she thought. This can't be it... I can't be dying now... But it seemed that what her destiny. As she was being pulled back in, a wave formed behind her again and she felt her body being tossed around like a rag doll. She had no more hope, no more reason to try. She was going to die and she was oddly compliant with it. With one last breath, Maddy closed her eyes and accepted her fate. The wave consumed her and crashed towards the shore....

She felt her body pulse with pain and Maddy couldn't help but yelp in horror as she saw her leg bleed. A piece of corral was stuck in her thigh which also sliced up from her knee during her trip in the wave. It was more than painful as the salt residue all over her body poured into the open wound. She couldn't contain the pain and she moaned and cried. "Help," she screamed, only it was really a whisper. "Someone PLEASE!" No one was going to come and she knew this. She was the only survivor and she had to find a way to stop the bleeding. Her body felt weak, and she could feel her head getting faint. She ripped off a section of her soaking wet day dress and tried to wrap it around her leg. It seemed impossible as she couldn't close her hands tight enough around the fabric. She was loosing blood quickly and she began to sway on the sand. "Please..." she murmured again, her breath shortening, her body naturally reserving itself as best as possible. With one last try, she tried to move her leg, the pain shot through her worse than ever and it was then she screamed as loud as she could, hoping someone could hear her before seeing nothing but black.