Page 2 of Pleasure Island

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.

---