The Opposite of Paradise

What would Katniss do?

A/N Hey so this chapter is albeit a little confronting and serious, but I promise that the next few chapters it starts to get a lot more lighthearted as I introduce more characters. This is probably as bad as it will get since she has only just woken up on the island and is having to deal with all of the emotional and physical pain. Enjoy x

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When I opened my eyes the first thing I noticed was how bright the sun was. I started to wonder if I was in Heaven or not, judging by the extremely intense light I was bathed in, but from the lack of angels singing I decided against it.

After letting my eyes adjust to the glare, I realised I was lying down, but when I tried to push myself up my hands slipped and I fell on my back instantly. A sharp pain throbbed down my sides and up my back, getting even more painful in my neck and temples. This time I sat up without using my hands, clenching my core muscles painfully to inspect my apparent injuries.

I lifted up my shirt carefully as if I was performing some sort of strip tease, only to be met with black and purple bruises running from my hipbones to around my ribs. I reached up to touch my neck, feeling that the skin was also tender, and didn't even try touch my head for fear of the pain. As I settled in my upright position I looked down and noticed the grains of sand scratching against my legs through holes in my jeans.

Where the hell am I?

I squinted to face my surroundings, cupping a hand around my eyes, the other braced in the sand. All around me was sand, stretching for as far as I could see. Palm trees were dotted here and there, leading into some sort of forest further away. A pathway marked with pebbles led somewhere in the distance and when I craned my neck I could just make out some large birds walking around in the dirt.

I twisted onto my knees, and then pushed up to stand properly. The pain in my chest sharpened slightly but it wasn't like I could lay down forever and sleep away my problems.

Well, I probably could, but where would that get me?

I brushed the sand off my ruined jeans and turned around to face a sight that almost had me feinting all over again.

Before me was the blue sea, glistening under the sunlight. In any other situation I would have marvelled at the sight of it, but this wasn't any normal circumstance. And water wasn't the only thing I could see.

Jutting out from the ocean was the wing of the plane. I could just read the 'Flora Airways' logo painted on the side and the little flowers dotted around the letters. I felt the bile rising up my throat as it dawned on me what had happened. The cloud that had distorted my memory vanished and the realisation hit me with such force that I started shaking.

Screaming passengers. Crying. Sephora. Blood on her arm. Screaming. Yelling. Sephora slipping from my fingers. I let her go. I let her go. I let her go.

I shut my eyes to try and shut off my mind. The vision of the plane wing burning into the back of my eyelids did nothing to console me so I decided that open eyes were my best bet. I shuffled my feet slowly around to see the final side of the island I hadn't seen yet.

When it came into focus I think I was convinced that it was a dream. That the wrecked plane in front of me wasn't real. That the small stream of smoke coming through one of the broken windows wasn't real. That the scrap metal strewn in every direction wasn't real. That the red staining the sand was actually just paint.

How I hadn't noticed it before I don't know, but the crash sight was one hundred times worse than one stupid wing. The horror before me was something I could never have prepared myself for, and it was so overwhelming that the sour taste returned to my mouth.