Shear pain posessed my body. My eyes didn't want to stay open anymore. Whatever was going to happen would happen when I was unaware of it all. My blue eyes were fading. The outside world was becoming greyer by the second. I couldn't prevent it, so instead of fighting I let the sensation take over. My body at this stage felt at ease. I was at one with myself. I was scared, but I was relieved. Wherever I was in my sub-conscious mind, I was happy. I had forgotten all about the wreckage of our plane. I had forgotten that water was due to errupt through the windows at any moment. For once I wasn't panicking. Maybe things would be better when I opened my eyes. Time didn't play a part in the world I was in. I was unaware of how long I wasn't in reality. Maybe this state of mind was better. If I was going to die, at least I would be happier.
Thoughts were flickering around inside my head. I wanted answers. I wanted to know who had survived and who hadn't. I wanted to know if I was still in my seat or whether I was lying somewhere else. My train of thought was cut short immediately.
Quickly, a cold sensation ran through my veins. It took me by surprise. I was startled and unsure of what to do. Should I open my eyes?
With all my effort I began to prise open my eye lids. It was difficult; I didn;t want to leave the place I had just been. I awoke to a nightmare unfolding. A large, unstable crack had appeared in the front window and was allowing great amounts of ice cold water in. The cockpit was half under water and half on the surface. However, now that we were taking on water we were rapidly descending under the silent waves. It was as if no one was to know that we were ever hear. I strained my ears to listen for any noise or movement. None was to be heard.
Looking down again at my feet, I realised that more water than I had initially thought had seeped in. Salt water was grasping round my ankles, making the open wounds around my legs sting again. My nervous system appeared to kick back into life. It was ready; it was deadly. My natural skin colour was no where to be seen, instead it was replaced with blood the shade of mahogany. Half of it was partially dry, but most was a bright colour indicating that many of my wounds were still bleeding and that I had lost a lot. It didn't register that blood loss could possibly kill me. I had survived a plane crash. I was still alive whilst water was pouring in... what else could I live through?
My head snapped left. Captain Hamilton was not in his seat. My heart rate increased. Where had he gone from a confined space. Surely he would have assisted me out of the cockpit. He wouldn't have left me, would he? More questions filtered through my mind causing tears to stream down my face. I was left alone. Unsure of where I was, unsure of how I would escape and unsure of how I would survive. My natural reaction was to move. I jolted forwards, forgetting that my legs were pinned to the chair, and screamed out in extreme pain. Panic had set in. I wanted to get out of the cockpit. If I had to pull my legs from the metal I would. I would drag myself through the cabin to the nearest exit if that's what it took. Anger was slowly building. I let it rise. Most of this I could channel into adreneline, the rest I would save for Captain Hamilton. Where was he when I needed him the most. Surely when he removed himself from the front he would have seen the condition at which I was in. Maybe when I closed my eyes..... he thought I was dead......
A sickening feeling swept over my body. Maybe everyone had been rescued and they had left me onboard along with countless other souls who hadn't made it. I cried even louder. If anybody was onboard I wanted them to know that I was here and that I was injured. It felt like a life time that I had been strapped to the seat. If no one was to come, how would my life end. Maybe I would drown? Maybe I would bleed to death? Which one would be less stressful. I began to way up my options. The chances of escaping were decreasing rapidly. The water was becoming deeper and my wounds were stinging more.
Just as I was about to give up, I heard a rattling sound coming from outside of the metal cockpit door. Someone was out there. I began screaming for help. The door handle was being tampered with. They wouldn't be able to get in without the passcode.
"2156!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
A clunk was heard, then the door swung open. To my amazement, there stood Captain Hamilton. His once crisp, white shirt was stained with blood and his face had numerous cuts on. He had forgotten the code in a frenzy of panic. He was struggling to keep his cool. He was trying his hardest to stay positive. In his hands he had a metal cutter that was stored away in the belly of the fuselage. He explained that he had left to cut me free. He knew this flight had one in case we needed to use it to cut through the airframe to escape. I guess it came in handy.
Never in my life had I been so happy to see someone. I was valuing my life more than ever now. All I had to do now was get out of there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More soon.. :)
YOU ARE READING
The Flight Of Your Life
AksiA routine flight becomes the subject of terror. With both engines failed and two unsure pilots of the problem, they have to bring her down. The only problem is that they're over the Atlantic Ocean. Will they survive?
