Page 19 of Lost Paradise

“Are you saying I’m attention-seeking?”

“I’m saying I think you care too much what strangers think of you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes,” Astro suddenly joins in from across the aisle. “You do, Princess. You’ve been pouting since that post was released. Look at me, I don’t give a rat’s arse.”

She scrunches her face and looks at him in disgust.

“That’s because being embroiled in a scandal with me is one step up the ladder for you and twenty down for me.”

A chuckle escapes me, and Zane can’t hold back the laughter.

“Man, she’s putyouin your place.”

Astro glowers at her. “You’re a conceited bitch who’s trying to be someone you’re not. You’re just some blonde bird rolling around in Daddy’s money. Come to my end of the world and see how real people live.”

“That’s enough!” Zane goes to unbuckle his seat belt, and Mr. Coldwell pushes him back in his armchair.

“That’s enough from both of you,” he commands, taking charge of the situation before Astro and Zane decide to pull out the fists.

He turns to Astro, “If you want to act like high school teens, then I’ll exchange your seating arrangement with Mr. Bancroft, and you can sit at the back of the plane for the entire plane trip.”

The engines suddenly roar to life, and the aircraft begins to taxi down the runway, silencing all of us. Eve finally gives up on her phone life, tosses it onto the table between us, and looks out the window thoughtfully.

Astro reclines in his plush leather chair and shuts his eyes. Zane engages in an animated discussion with Mr. Coldwell. They are no doubt talking about their training schedules, their voices mingling with an air of confidence and ambition.

I pull out a stack of textbooks and my laptop, determined not to let my academic pursuits falter on this two-weektrip. Honestly, as much as I try to find something in common with the others, I couldn’t be more different from all of them. Only one thing threads us together, and it’s this blonde beauty who has her own set of personal problems that she keeps hidden from everyone.

I open my laptop and begin diligently typing away on a theory I’ve been working on for a while. Using this twenty-hour flight time, I plan to take advantage of it. The rhythmic hum of the engines provides a soothing backdrop to my thoughts as I focus on my work.

A sharp jerk jolts me awake, ripping me from the realm of my apparent slumber and thrusting me into a waking nightmare. My laptop lay forgotten on a table before me. A surge of adrenaline courses through my veins as confusion and disorientation cloud my mind. I struggle to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me. The once serene atmosphere of the cabin had transformed into a scene of panic and turmoil.

My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the gravity of the situation. The plane is in trouble—cabin emergency lights are flashing. Instinctively, my gaze darts to the windows, seeking answers. What I see sends a shiver down my spine—a scene of utter chaos and impending doom. The ocean below seems to rush towards us with terrifying speed. The once serene vista transforms into a blur of motion and turbulence.

We’re now plunging into a nosedive towards the unforgiving expanse of the water below. Fear grips me in its icy embrace as I brace myself for the inevitable impact. Time seems to slow to a crawl as the seconds stretch into eternity, each heartbeat echoing like a thunderous drumbeat in my ears.

This is it.

All eighteen years of my life, and this is how it ends.

Thoughts of unfinished business flash throughout my mind, a jumbled collage of regrets and aspirations.

As the plane plummets toward the unforgiving embrace of the ocean below, a sense of helplessness washes over me like a tidal wave. There is nothing I can do to alter our course or change our fate. All I can do is cling to the hope that somehow, against all odds, we will emerge unscathed from this harrowing ordeal.

The deafening roar of the engines is drowned out by the sound of twisting metal and shattering glass as the front of the plane begins to tear away before impact with the water. The world outside seems to spin and whirl in a dizzying blur of motion as we hurtle toward the water with terrifying velocity.

Then, with a bone-jarring thud, we strike the surface of the water, the force of the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the cabin. The front of the plane finally tearing away with a sickening crunch, leaving us exposed to the elements and at the mercy of the harsh ocean.

As the chaos subsides and the dust settles, I find myself miraculously unharmed, a small miracle amidst the devastation that surrounded us. Yet, even as relief floods through me, a sense of foreboding lingers in the air—a chilling reminder that our ordeal is far from over.

As the cold embrace of reality tightens its grip around us, I know that our only chance of survival lies in working together. With the plane rapidly sinking beneath the surface of the ocean, panic threatens to overwhelm us, but I refuse to succumb to despair. We have to act—and act fast.

Already assessing the situation, Mr. Coldwell turns to us, calls out our names, and we respond. His voice is steady despite the turmoil raging within me.

"We need to get off this plane, now," he urges, his words cutting through the chaos like a beacon of hope. "We need to find a way out before it's too late."

With a collective nod of agreement, we spring into action. Despite the urgency of our situation, there is a remarkable sense of unity among us.

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