I have been the leader since the day the plane, carrying 25 passengers, crashed into the sea - which is now about two years ago. There was a motor-failure, as if all four of them shut down by volcanic ash, sending us right down to the ground. It was one of the most terrifying moments in my life, when I looked Death right into its eyes. Yet am I still alive, but I can't seem to figure out if I'm happy with being able to breathe and sense.
From the 25 passengers in the plane, only a handful survived. Many of them, whom were all traveling to the same destination, someplace to Indonesia, died from the impact, leaving only seven people in total (alive and well), without me included. There were three males in total and four females left right now, which basically inhabited the island we managed to drift off to.
At first we were hopeless and scared of never finding a normal, urban life again - to be stuck here forever in a place where we - and the rest of the world - never put a foot on land. It's deserted, uninhabited and somewhere only God knows. A lot of the persons whom I got stuck here got stress attacks or suffered from homesickness to that thought and fact, leaving them crying and shaking on the beach.
Some even attempted to build a weak raft to try and sail back home, but they didn't come any farther than a few metres before the waves destroyed and ripped apart the floating object. The current pushed the broken raft and the people on it back to shore when that happened. No-one tried escaping the island with a raft again.
Some knew it was useless to fight the sea. Speaking of the sea, the plane with bodies - the bodies of people who died on impact or drowned because they either didn't manage to escape, or blew air into their safety vests before even leaving the sinking airplane - sunk to the bottom, where they were left on the bottom of the ocean to decompose, while we stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Sometimes, when there was a lot of current, a body drifted from the place the plane sunk to the shore of our island, to which a lot freaked out, but under my lead we took care of everything - dragged the body on land and buried it somewhere deep into the ground where we knew we wouldn't be bothered by the smell. My control kept everyone in order, which is why they chose me as their 'Alpha'.
When people finally began to adjust themselves to a new sort of lifestyle, they started building small tents from twigs and leaves, which was the basic thing to keep safe and dry during rainy nights, until their building and surviving skills levelled-up to the point when they were able to build a treehouse.
They built mine first until it was finished and we could continue building those of others. The men on the island basically kept themselves busy with that, me included, while the women collected food from all over the island, stored it, and cooked for us three times a day.
Besides cooking did they take care of the island, made sure the trees got enough water to produce food for us and took care of the wounded - some of us got seriously hurt while building (especially when one would fall down from a tree or cut themselves accidentally with a sharp stone).
Some of the females had a relationship with one of the males and got pregnant. Till now, one baby is born, but we all know we're going to need more of those small humans, because that's necessary if we want to survive. There is enough material and food for us to survive with, so that should go just fine.
I never really had time for a female for myself; being a leader among the group took a lot of time - but that didn't mean that I didn't think about having a mate to spend time with or to create babies with to put people on this island. When I lied in my treehouse I thought about it the most, when it was quiet and the only sound I heard was the soft, gushing sound of the waterfall in the distance and some birds chirping.
