𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

50. Porky Portis.

F I F T Y
Porky Portis.

Everything seems to happen so quickly. The second we hit the water, we're all thrown to the front. Gravity can really be a bitch.

I'm pretty sure Sarah's elbow ends up in my mouth, and I know I kicked someone in the balls.

It doesn't take long for us to get from the front, back into the main section of the plane. I cough up water, trying to let my brain catch up with everything, but the ocean in the plane rises and keeps rising. It's a little reminiscent of the sewer. That's a super fun memory.

Another time a Cameron has almost killed me. It happens way, way too often.

"Is everybody good?" Pope asks. I can't even formulate a response. The water isn't as warm as it looks, which isn't helping. My nipples are so hard they could snap off. They've probably cut a hole through my flimsy shirt. They're what takes someone's eye out in every teacher's story.

Am I good? No. Far fucking from it. But am I better than I was last night? yes. I sure as shit am.

I look over to JJ, to make sure he isn't decapitated or something, he isn't, but he's already looking at me.

"You good? Not hurt at all." JJ's voice is scratchy, full of stress. I nod and tell him I'm okay. I can feel his hands under the water, skating over my skin as if he doesn't believe me. I would lie. Have a dramatic reveal later of my grievous wound.

"You?" I turn the question back on him, and he nods. I don't use it as an excuse to grope him.

"We've gotta get out of here," Pope reminds us that we aren't currently in the Ritz.

We all begin heading out of the quickly sinking plane. John B shoves the busted door open, and everyone begins swimming out one by one. "We gotta get out before it sinks," JJ reminds me. I point for him to go first as I cough my lungs out a little bit more.

"Oh no. They don't look friendly," John B groans. I peek through one of the windows, I see a group of men in beige tactical gear running toward the water. Friendly is the furthest thing from how they look. No one can look friendly in tactical gear. It screams 'Get out of my way or I'll bomb you'.

"No, they look very unfriendly," Pope stresses.

"We gotta go. Come on," John B hurries as everyone files out.

JJ jumps out. "Mabel," he beckons.

"I'm coming, give me a second," I finally decide what I'm going to do. "Go. I'll be half a second, and I swim fast, you know that." I gesture for him to leave. He does, only after I hook my pinky around his. A silent promise that I'm not going anywhere.

I look back at Jimmy, slumped over the steering wheel, out for the count. None of them swim very far, they just hover outside the plane. They all start shouting at me to come out, that we need to go now. I can't leave him, just let him die.

I had a breakdown about my abusive ex-boyfriend, maybe being dead, leaving someone to die, isn't my M.O.

"Hang on!" I shout, wading back through the plane toward the front. It won't take long. I am a fast swimmer. I'll get him to relative safety and let nature take its course.

I make my way to the front, the plane is completely fucked, "Come on Jimmy, work with me." I whisper to an unconscious man, a proven-to-work strategy. Grabbing the man, who could definitely benefit from losing a few pounds, I slide my arms under his armpits and begin dragging him out of the sinking plane. He's still completely knocked out.

"Portis! Wake the fuck up, you bastard," I shout at him, moving him through the plane desperately as the water steadily rises.

"I'm two seconds away from leaving you fat arse to drown, so wake up," I try and convince him subliminally to wake up. Again. Not working.