Survivor

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~

All I can hear was an incessant ringing, the kind that makes you cover your ears, but doesn't falter. I'm consumed in darkness. I feel nothing, like I'm numb all over.

My eyes gently flutter open, and adjust to the light. I gulp as I take in my surroundings.

~

You could see her eyes moving urgently under her closed eyelids. The increasing beeping sounds coming from the electrocardiogram was signifying that she was either becoming increasingly stressed, like she was having a nightmare, or she was going into cardiac arrest. The latter is not so good, but not exactly unexpected considering her situation.

Doctors and nurses started rushing into the room, obviously having been notified of the situation. A man in blue scrubs, presumably the doctor, told, rather urgently, a man in green to start the defibrillator, the rest started preparing her to get the shock of her life (quite literally). The green man, lets call him The Hulk, rubbed the two paddles together, after setting the defibrillator to the correct voltage output. Everyone stood back while The Hulk placed the paddles on the right chest, just above her nipple (talk about consent!) and below her left breast. Hulk exclaimed "clear!" before pressing the buttons at the front of the paddles, discharging an electric current through her heart.

The next few seconds seemed to take an eternity, but eventually her heart re-established its normal sinus rhythm. The doctor, The Hulk, and the rest of the nurses stayed for a few minutes, until they were sure her heart was stable.

"So, who's going to notify her parents that she went into cardiac arrest?" the doctor in blue, let's call him Avatar, enquired.

"You're the doctor," Hulk said, "but don't forget the part that she survived!"

And with that they left the room, giggling like school girls around their crush, acting like she didn't almost die, again.

~

I'm on a plane. Except it doesn't look like this has been a regular journey. I can't see much ahead, only darkness and a few silhouettes of chairs. Nobody is speaking, or moving. I wince as a searing pain goes down my neck as I try to look to my left. It's not until now that I realise that the plane is tilted, like it's on a steep slope. Giving up on trying to look left, I strain to look right, at the passenger seated next to me. I move my head until the pain is unbearable. In this position, he is almost in my full eyesight.

I gasp as I take in his appearance. There is a stream of blood flowing from the front of his head, his head is hanging in an unnatural position, his neck most likely broken. His shirt is drenched in blood. This man is dead, how could he not be? He is middle-aged, with wife and kids, or so he told me a couple of hours ago. Only a couple of hours ago, right? I need to get out of here.

I wipe the sweat that has started dripping down my forehead, wincing at the agonising pain shooting down my shoulder. As I bring my hand back down, I notice it's not sweat, but blood. I REALLY need to get out of here.