Flight 143 (Harry Styles)

(Chapter 2)

Counting Bodies-

   Everything was a little dazy. The ringing in my ears over took the moans and groans of pain from the other passengers.

My eyes struggled to open, and I felt as if I was paralyzed. Without my consent, my mouth opened and let out a loud, desperate moan. Moan after moan, and soon it turned into a scream, pain kicking in quick.

"Shit" A voice came out of the blue. A hand grasped my hand, and a head layed on my chest. "Good...that's good"

My eyes finally felt light, and I let them open themselves. Even what i could see was completley blurry.

One thing that I could see, was a figure was right in front of me. My head turned over from the figure,  and I could see fire igniting from a massive structure.

"Good, you're awake, can you hear me? Nod your head if you can hear me" The voice continued. I nodded my head instantly, earning a sigh of relief from the figure.

Pain shot through my spine, and my head. The pain felt like I had dropped a rock in a pond- spreading around from the core hotspot of where the pain actually came from. I screamed in agony.

"Shh, it's ok" The voice cooed, "Where does it hurt, tell me" It added. Slowly I could grasp my voice again.

Once I fully regained it, I finally spoke, "My back...m-my head, it hurts. Alot."

The figure, placed his hand on my forehead, "Here?" The voice asked, as the hand was placed on my back, "And here?" I nod.

"Who are you? I can't see you" My voice was raspy, and dry. To tell you the truth,  it actually felt like somebody scraped my throat with a razor.

"Well, that's not good...can you walk-even if you can't see? I mean, I don't want you to fall into somebody, or a corpse, and freak out or something like that, and-"

"No..." I answered, feeling the intense pain in my throat once again.

"Wait a second, do you mean 'no' as in, 'woah stop it, their's corpses?' or 'no' as in the answer, or..." The voice lingered on, waiting for an answer.

"Answer" I answered once again.

"So you can't walk?" I sighed, kind of annoyed even. Then to answer the voice once again again, I nod.

My eyesight finally restored to normal, and I could see clearly. Above me, was the same boy that I saw before the plane crashed. His eyes closer to mine, I can see the green eyes had a ring of yellow around his orbs.

His face was bruised up, cheek was swollen and purple, cuts and scars all over his arms, and there was a massive amount of blood on his white t-shirt.

His eyes was in a form of pain, something was hurting him. Not only the bruises and cuts, but at the thought of something. Something deep within.

Finally I look back up to his face, his eyes baring into mine. I had this longing of something...

"Who are you?" My eyebrows curved into confusion.

"Harold. You can call me Harry, I prefer that instead of 'Harold' cause it sounds way too formal, and-"

I frown, "Okay! Okay! I get it, Harry instead of Harold" One thing for sure, this one sure does love to talk. "What about your last name?" Once again,my throat felt as if it was flaming.

"Styles. Harry Styles-not Harold" We both fell silent, once we heard a ringing noise from the plane in front of us.

Screams had gotten louder, and Harry looked into my eyes in fear. "Shit" He mumbled, and ran his fingers through his curls. "Shit, Shit, Shit..." His eyebrows curved into deep thought.