Inhabited

Chapter 9

I sputter as my eyes fly open, my breath heaving. My body is shaking violently and my lungs are burning–again. Tears spring in my eyes as I search for air that just won't come. Why does this keep happening to me?

Trees above me swirl in various colors of green. Light, dark, in between. The sky peeks through pieces of it, bright blue. It quickly disappears in the blob that spins above me. Garbled voices enter my ears, reminding me of the parents in Charlie Brown. You never hear their exact words and they're always off screen. But the kids know what they're saying. Except there's the difference here. I don't have a clue what they're saying.

Turning my head, I draw in a sharp breath, my lungs stinging from the effort. The figures above and around me are a blurred mess. No amount of blinking I do straightens them out and after a few times, I give in and shut my eyes again. Red light blisters behind my eyelids and I can still clearly hear the voices around me. Some sound frantic, desperate.

For a brief moment, I'm left in bliss at not being able to remember where I or what had happened. I can just let myself sink into the grass beneath me as I struggle to capture oxygen that my lungs have a hard time creating on their own half the time.

It doesn't last that long though. It hits with vengeance and I'm sucked right back into the murky memories that swarm my mind. The screaming is the most deafening. The shaking of the plane, my nails digging into the upholstery of my seat.

A ringing sounds in my ears and I sit up, clamping my hands over my ears. My body fizzles in numbness and for a moment, I feel like I'm floating, but green stretches in front, on each side, and behind me so I know I'm on the ground. When I fall back into place, I blink and a pair of eyes are level with mine.

"Nate." I breathe out.

He nods and holds up an inhaler. I instantly part my lips and he presses it between them, pushing down. The puff of oxygen hits and I swallow. He does twice more and the flaming embers in my chest begin to finally die down. I sputter as he pulls the inhaler out, coughing once to get the excess clutter out and heave in oxygen.

Finally, the spinning in my head rights out and my shoulders slump.

"Feeling better?" My oldest brother asks and I nod in confirmation. "Good. Hopefully we're far enough from the plane you won't be breathing in anymore smoke."

I rub at my chest and and take his hands as he holds them out to me, helping me to stand on my shaky legs.

"Where are we?" I finally ask, trying to look around for a better look. "What exactly happened?"

"That's what we're still trying to figure out, on both things. Somewhere in a forest, woods. Mountains, maybe. The plane just – lost it. Turbulence. Who knows? Anything could've happened that forced it down." My brother explains and glances around before looking at me sadly. "Not all of us made it."

The last sentence is whispered, but it wrenches at my heart anyway. I know that all my siblings are alive and so is Sully. That's a good thing and for me, that's what matters. But I know others who had been on the plane probably have loved ones that didn't make it. I don't even want to begin to think of what that would to do me if that were the case. I know I'm lucky.

I won't say it though. Because that's selfish. It isn't fair by any means.

Still, I look up to be sure that my siblings and Sully are still here. When he catches me looking, he grins. That cheeky smile that has dimples cascading into his cheeks on each side of his mouth. A warm, fuzziness flows over me and my cheeks spark with heat. At least I know I'm alive this way.

When I'm sure that taking even a single step isn't going to push me back to the ground, I step forward. Cautiously, slowly, but I finally begin to move. My legs feel so stiff, like I've been asleep for a thousand years or something.

A twig snaps under me, making me grimace as it echoes in my head. Lifting a hand, I press my fingers to the back of my skull, reminded of having been slammed to the ground. The screams echo in my ears again and the ringing washes over them. Clasping my hands over my ears once more, I stagger, trying so desperately to block out the sounds. It's impossible with them inside of my head though.

"Fawn?" Maisie's voice enters above it all and I draw my eyes up, trying to focus on her instead of anything else. "I have your camera."

Camera. Yes. My camera. She holds it up and I reach out, snatching it from her hands, eager to hold it once more. Whenever I'm without my camera, I feel so naked. So – not me. It's a feeling that scrapes at my insides, burns little holes everywhere until I can hold the precious thing again. It's part of who I am, my identity. I know it's silly and people – my mother – says that I shouldn't let it consume me as much as it does. I can't help it though. I don't want to help it, if I'm honest.

I'm good at what I do and I damn well know it. So why should I not hone the ability to capture moments of life the way I do?

As I turn around, my eyes fall on the trunks that stretch out in front of us. Through a break in them, I can see billowing smoke far from us. It can't hurt me here, but I'm going to need it to. Because the desire to snap the photos of the combusted plane are suddenly burning hotter than my lack of oxygen did. But I won't be able to do it in front of my brothers or Sully. They'll freak out, demand I stay put. Because surely, if I inhale that smoke one more time, my next asthma attack might not let me come back again.