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I glance over at Chad. And Sister Eloise.
Chad’s neck is broken, his body completely lifeless. Sister Eloise is covered in blood.
No. No.
I can vaguely hear a few people moaning.
The water is up to my waist now. I unfasten my seatbelt and I start half-walking and half-swimming towards the front of the plane … the water is so cold … but there is no front of the plane. It’s just gone. It’s a gaping, open hole into a watery darkness.
My shirt rips on the sharp edge of something as I try to get out. I hardly notice.
There’s a yellow raft, bobbing next to the hole. A miracle? I don’t know. I climb onto it. I call out. I want to help the others, but my head is spinning. I touch my hair and see there’s blood on my fingers.
Everything starts to spin.
And the world goes black.
I’m so thirsty.
I open my eyes.
Where am I?
I blink my eyes. It’s so bright. There are bright colors.
Yellow.
And blue.
I blink again.
Oh my God.
The plane!
Was that real?
I sit up a little, but my head spins.
Holy shit.
I’m in a raft.
My plane crashed and I’m in a raft.
I peer over the edge of the raft.
Jesus!
I’m in the middle of the ocean.
In a tiny yellow raft.
Oh my God. Clara. Sister Eloise. Chad. All of them. Did any of them survive? I have no way of knowing. My raft doesn’t even have oars. Or water. Or food. Or anything.
Shit.
I don’t even have a shirt on. At all. It ripped, I vaguely remember. It must have been ripped completely off. And I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
