Jared Leto • Imagines (editing)

flight

You slowly awoke from a sleep that was not properly induced.

Your head amplified a loud beat, that caused you to groan in pain.

Light seeping through the holes of trees above you made your eye lids flutter with sensitivity.

Cold dirt sunk into the crevasses of your elbow as you propped your self up, cautious not to worsen your headache with too much movement.

You squinted as you looked around in confusion.

Palm trees?

You question your sight as your eyes began to open wider. A pair of legs dangled from a tree in the distance.

Before you could register the reality of the situation, a tropical scent met your senses like a comforting hug.

It was a breath of fresh air. Different from the harsh smell of gun powder and gas you've breathed before.

With a little more concentration, you were able to make out a large gash slicing up your calf. You frowned since it didn't hurt, but it looked like it should have.

Your white sneakers were bloody.

Dirty, and bloody. Much like the war. But maybe not as pointless.

At this thought, you sat all the way up.

You see chucks of white and silver metal. It reminded you of the wing of the plane you sat on before you woke up. The plane that you were forced to get onto, and part from your family.

The plane you don't remember getting off of.

It was somewhat relaxing: the state of confusion. The one time your mind was free of worry, and replaced by a more regular feeling: curiosity. Your headache eased.

A shift in the air caused your eyes to dart in the opposite direction. Bushes ruffled and leaves crunched.

"hello?" you say softly. The noise stops. The normal you wouldn't have even spoke. Your lungs would be put to another use, burning while begging for puffs of air as you ran for your life. Normal you was on edge.

Normal you didn't want to die.

But what if you were dead?

You hear the noise closer. "I'm over here."

The frame steps out into the clearing. The steps were careful, and cautious, like they knew what was happening. Your eyes wander up from tan feet, a visible chiseled abdomen, and a scruffy face.

You had no other reaction, but awe.

"A-are you okay?" The new sound hit your ears and entered a pit of unforgotten memories in your cloudy mind. This is when your heart quickened. And fear itself couldn't make you feel the swarm of physical and mental reaction as staring at this man did.

Yes, you want to say, but only nod.

Or No, if that's what he wanted to hear. If that would make him stay longer.

His brows furrow with more worry, with a flash of horror when he sees your leg.

At first you were surprised. How he mumbled something that sounded nurturing as he crouched down to further examine your injury. How he stood back up, and like in slow motion, removes his white wet shirt. The shiver you experienced, as he began twirling it like a long rope.

"Do you just get assigned to me, or do you have a choice?" You wonder aloud, almost in a sigh. He looks up at you as he rings his shirt out.

"I don't understand...-"

"God, silly." You almost laugh like he was the unconsious one. "Or who ever runs this place. I should have known you were coming, an Angel retrieving me from the jungle, all glory!"

You throw your hands in the hair, and are almost dazed by it.

"You uh, lost alot of blood there. You must be in shock..."

"You know, i died a virgin?!" You gape, and you feel like you lost all ability to filter what your saying.

He frantically wrapped your leg at his best ability, ignoring your comments.

You felt like the colors of the tropic faded right infront of your eyes, returning a gray haze in your sight.

This is it, you thought. You'll finally be free. Your muscles struggled to support the smile on your lips.

"Shit, its soaking through! i need to get you help." he rambles, and picks you up, bridal style into his arms. "It's gonna be okay."

"Well i was going to try and find Paul Walker up there, but i guess.... you'll... do." Your eyes begin to shut again and you struggle to keep them up.

After listening to the mans stuttering attempts to keep you awake:

"Don't give up, please, hang in there. You might actually keep me sane."

you let your head droop completely.

Sanity. The word was bold in the darkness behind your eyelids.

This guy was no angel. Maybe innocent but no angel. It frightened you how strong his words affected you. Maybe because it sounded so similar to yours.

Maybe not so innocent. But sane.

Lacked sanity. And craved it. From you.

As you looked down at your lifeless body trying to be salvaged on the beach sand, you couldn't help but feel proud.

You knew your death will symbolize an example, and leave pretty men like the one who tried to save you with a mission to encourage peace instead of something meaningless.

At least that's what you thought, before you blinked and returned to darkness.

"Jared, i feel a pulse!"

You feel cold fingers press against your neck. The sound of eager foot steps and heavy breathing surround you.

Pain returns. You feel it mentally and physically. You feel your self gasping for breaths. And you weren't mad about it.

Death would have been too easy anyway.

*******

something different this week.

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