Should I continue this story? ---------->
It’s so cold. I start to walk aimlessly through the melting snow, hoping I could survive this hell I’ve been tossed into. I take one last glance at the wreckage that was our plane. I would have never guessed this was the last day I got to see my family. Burned to a crisp, not much love can be made of charcoal.
My best bet at this point is to persevere. Nothing good comes from dwelling on the past. I speak from experience. I haven’t gone through anything in my life that would be able to prepare me for this. The wind begins to pick up and snow makes its descent on land.
