Survival of the Fittest

Chapter Ten - The Squeamish One

I open my eyes as a burning pain shoots up my leg.

Where the fuck am I?

The last thing I remember was being sat on a plane being told to brace and prepare for a crash landing.

My head spins as I pull myself up to a sitting position, I feel something warm and sticky running down my face, touching my face I scream as my hand comes away covered in blood, the sight of it makes me feel faint, I groan and realize I'm still strapped into my seat; my head resting on the damp ground at an unnatural angle.

The seat beside me is nothing but mangled metal, thank God I didn't have the window seat.

Reaching down I unbuckle the lap belt before falling to the floor with a groan. Looking around, I see nothing but parts of the mangled plane. I must have been thrown clear.

"Deep breaths, Emma, deep breaths."

Once I've got my breathing under control, I look around, there's must be other survivors right? There were at least 300 passengers on that plane. All I've got to do is find them.

I shout out, hoping someone will hear me.

Hello, Is there anyone here? Hello?

I listen but hear nothing other than the sound of the trees and the humming of the jungle.

Where am I?

I decided to call out again.

"Oh God, someone please help me. Help!"

Silence.

I try to keep calm, realizing that I still have my Louis Vuitton bag over my shoulder. Thank God I didn't put it in the overhead compartment. I open the bag, taking out the packet of baby wipes I always carry with me, gingerly wiping my head.

The bleeding seems to have stopped. Hopefully, it's nothing serious.

I look down at my ankle; that's a different matter. It's twice the usual size. I only hope nothing is broken. I wince as I slip off my Burberry heels, tentatively moving my ankle.

Fuck that hurts!

"Help...please...is there anyone there?"

Still nothing but silence! What am I going to do?

I have to move. I can't stay here. I need to look for others.

"Think Emma, Think."

I whisper this to myself, trying to muster the courage to make myself move. I rip off a piece of material from my skirt, wrapping it tight around my ankle, hoping that will give me some support.

I slowly stand, testing the weight on my ankle.

"Ow!"

It hurts, but I somehow manage to stand.

Looking around, I see some large branches on the floor. I break off as many of the twigs as I can using the branch to help keep the weight off my ankle. I manage to take a few steps with the help of the branch.

"That's it you got this girl."

I giggle to myself as I keep talking to myself the giggle soon turns into a hysterical laugher, before turning into a full-blown meltdown as the tears cascade down my face.

My Daddy was right I shouldn't have come on my own, I wanted to prove to him that I could, all my life my Dad has given me everything I need, my private apartment, my sports car, designer clothes. I've had everything handed to me on a plate.