𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | ˢᵃʷʸᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵈ

[𝟏]

ℳ𝒾𝒶
———

I WAKE UP WITH A STRANGLED GASP, being met with the feeling of air reentering my lungs. As my ragged breath races I force myself up on my elbows.

I feel sand curl in my hand — a beach? The sun however block my sight, causing me to lift a hand up to my forehead to see.

The sight I am met with is one I will never forget.

Screams, yells, and numerous amounts of people crying. Some looking around frantically while calling out for their loved ones. With wide eyes I spot the disaster before me — a crashed plane lays sprawled out over the beach. A few pieces are burning or swallowed in smoke.

I can't even wrap my head around the horrifying scene before me. Just then, I feel warm liquid streaming down the side of my face. I reach up with my hand to gently touch my cheek, only to pull I away and see my hand now coated in fresh blood. My breath catch in my throat and my heartbeat rises. I must've hid my head on something is my first thought. I however don't get to wonder any longer about it when someone shouts.

"Hey! You! Come here!"

I glance up to find a middle-aged man with brunette hair that's cut nearly all the way to the scalp staring over at me. He's wearing a suit, blood stains covering the white parts.

Before I know it he has stood up and hurriedly runs to my side. I notice the clear panic in his amber-brown eyes as he kneels beside me. His eyes wander upwards, landing on my bloody forehead before returning to my eyes once again.

"Are you feeling okay? Are you dizzy?" he asks me frantically.

I can immediately tell he's a doctor just by the way he's speaking.

Swallowing slowly, I shake my head. "I feel fine," I croak out, talking for the first time in who knows how long. My throat has never been this dry before.

"Okay, can you help that pregnant over there get away from those fumes?" he proceeds to ask me as he points to a blonde-haired woman sat on the sand, visibly pregnant. "Take her over there. Stay with her. If her contractions occur any closer than three minutes apart, call out for me."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," I reply and scramble to stand up on my legs that feel like jelly.

The man whose name I never received dashes off again, to help more people I figure.

The pregnant woman is groaning in pain when I reach her, clutching her stomach.

I crouch down next to her. "Hey, hey, I'm gonna help you," I assure her as she meets my eye and utters a quick 'thank you'.