Panic is a natural reaction to a stimulus we are afraid of. It can take up many different forms. Panic can set in physically, psychologically or both. In my case, I started to panic physically. The fear of being helpless was my worst nightmare. Being suspended from a plane wreckage was definitely close to being helpless. My arms were drooping heavily above my head. I must have been in this position a while as I had no feelings in my arms. This is going to make unbuckling my seat belt ten times harder. Slowly, one by one, I brought my arms down to their normal resting position. I let the blood flow back steadily before trying to shake off the pins and needles.
I then began fumbling around for the release clip. It was tightly shut and the material was jammed in the metal teeth. The impact had caused my seat belt to buckle slightly making any chance of escaping this seat slim. I needed someones help, but my problem was when I turned my head to the right.. I should have seen the right side of the plane, with seats full of passengers. Instead, when I looked to my right I saw nothing but the dazzling afternoon sun. I tried to manoeuvre my body so that I could look behind me, but the seat restraint was so tight I couldn't shift my weight in any other direction. The thought suddenly dawned on me, what happens if I'm the only one?
My heart sank even further at the realisation that Simon was no longer with me. Previously, he had been seated to my immediate right. Simon had always liked sitting nearest to the aisle, and without hesistation I always let him and took my seat in the middle of the row of three. Now, Simon was no longer sat next to me. My seat was attached to the seat that was on my left, which was attached to the fuselage... all that was keeping my seat stable was the flooring running underneath my chair. I guess in some sense, I was lucky. However, if I was classed as lucky, I could not begin to imagine what state I would find Simon in.
Suddenly, the urge to survive swung into action. I had never before, so desperately, clawed at the material holding my seatbelt together. "I will get out.... and I will find help!" was the mantra I was sub-consciously repeating. The friction created from pulling at the material was making the tips of my fingers sore. The pain was becoming more and more apparent, but I knew that I could not give up. If I was to survive, I would firstly need to extract myself from this future-dependant seat. I paused for a moment and collected my thoughts. I need to remain optimistic if this is going to work. So, after my 'pep talk', I began clawing at the material, fumbling around hopelessly until something gave.
***
Sweat beads were stinging my eyes and my finger tips, no longer, had skin covering their tops. The pain I was feeling physically, was also reflecting the pain I was feeling mentally. I was exhausted. The seatbelt defeat had taken its toll on my whole outlook of the situation. There was no way that I could survive this. I began running some statistics through my mind. The statistic that appeared most often was the one that stated I had only three days to live without water. The heat, from the sun at its highest point earlier on in the day, had severly dehydrated me. I knew that there was water available, but I still had to get to it.
I was depleted of energy, and could find no motivation to now get out. I had succumbed to negative thoughts. Simon was probably dead, and I would be too, soon. Giving up was the easiest option at present.
***
My legs were dangling painfully across the metal bar which was running underneath the structure of my seat. The mid-afternoon sun had warmed the metal, making it slightly uncomfortable on my delicate skin. My arms were tensed, and folded safely around my torso for support. The position that I was now in, was not one I could sustain for much longer. I had no core strength to begin with, so this was definitely a struggle for me both phyically as well as mentally.
The motivation levels I had recently, had now departed my mind. I had convinced myself that there was no other way of escaping this dreadful chair, and that my ending would be fulfilled here. So, I sat and waited for the ending to come. But, two hours later... I was still here. I was watching the sweat beads run down my forehead and fall hopelessly onto the golden sand.
If only I wasn't in this situation, this would be the ideal beach to completely relax upon.
***
From watching the sun amongst the horizon, I knew the night-time hours were fast approaching. I was grateful for the reduction of heat, I knew this would buy me precious time. I could work harder at night, and conserve more energy. Things might actually be looking up for me! Although my position in the seat was uncomfortable, I could feel myself relaxing amongst the calm surroundings. The ocean was slowly, creeping back out to sea and the palm trees were gracefully swaying to the oceans retreat. The environments soothing effect on my mind made me look at this situation from a different perspective: a survivors. Today, I would be bold... today, I would be brave.
Today had felt like years rolled into one. I had experienced the highs and lows of life whilst sitting in the exact same position for almost six hours. I had reflected upon almost everything in my life and what dreams I had achieved and what I still wanted. Thats when desperation kicked in. I wanted to see the world, travel more and most importantly: achieve all of this with Simon. I wanted to be in his arms so badly. I wanted to wake up beside him in our hotel room, and for him to tell me it was just another bad dream. Instinct told me it wasn't. Reality was harsh.
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Shallow Grave
غير روائيCharlotte Steel; young, successful and a fighter. She had to be a fighter. If they were all to survive, they would need to use everyone's abilities to their best possible standard. Survival was their only way out, the end was near.
