April 19, 2013
Honors English 10 per. 7
I slowly come to my senses. I feel wet, hot, and sandy. I try to roll over to remove my face from its uncomfortable position on the beach, only to find my body paralyzed by some sort of incredible weight on my back.
After an uncertain amount of time, I feel the weight lifted and a familiar voice whisper in my ear, “troll.” An automatic grimace appears on my face, as I turn my glaring eyes toward Brendan.
“Shut up, Gill,” I croak, but then realize what this means, “Brendan! Oh my God, you’re alive!” I jump to my feet. My head starts spinning, and I black out again.
I wake up, this time sitting on the edge of a tropical forest, sheltered by a small tent. A brilliant sunset is just falling on the crest of the horizon. My face is no longer gritty, and my throat no longer parched. I crawl out and see two silhouettes crouched around a small fire a little ways down the beach; I am barely able to make out their features in the dim light. I know that one must be Brendan, and I slowly discern the other as Bethy. I unsteadily walk over to them, and am greeted with a small portion of dried food and a large bottle of drinking water.
I find out that Brendan was the first one to wake up, found me, and then Bethy along the shore as well, after I passed out again. He also found about eight of the survival backpacks, which are now sitting in a pile under the tent adjacent to mine. All three of us had washed up within about a quarter-mile. Then we begin to recall how we managed to get into this position.
“We were sitting in English class only two weeks ago,” Bethy starts, “waiting for the bell to ring on the last day of school. And Mr. Zimpfer started telling us how we were selected to go try out this super fast jet-thing at the NASA place in Florida which was supposed to fly us across the Atlantic in like half an hour.”
“Yeah, how did we even get to do that?” I ask.
Brendan replies, “They were probably so impressed we got that tree, they were just like ‘yeah, they’re cool, let’s let them test it’.”
“Yeah okay, Brendan, I’m sure that’s what the smart astronauts said when they decided to let us test it.”
“Guys shut up I don’t want to hear your arguing!” I give Brendan my usual look of you-know-I’m-right-and-you’re-wrong, and we both shut our mouths.
Bethy continues, “So we went down to Florida and they gave us the backpacks with all the survival stuff in case something went wrong and told us all about this fancy, super-fast jet. How long after we took off, did we crash?”
“It was only about five minutes, and then we were hurling toward the water.”
All three of us sit there for a moment, remembering the scene of the previous night; most the class caught and drowning under the thick, heavy glass of the jet. The look on their faces, as the few of us who weren’t caught tried to yank them out from underneath to their nearly impossible rescue. None of us remember who exactly didn’t get trapped under the glass. I know the scene will forever be engraved into the back of our eyelids.
“Well,” I sigh, “that means that we couldn’t be too far off the coast of Florida, and there could be other survivors. And if we find them, we could maybe get back to civilization. But first, we need to find some source of food and it seems like you guys already found water.”
Bethy says, “Yeah and I organized the backpacks. Our three bags each have a survival guide, food, a water bottle, matches, a lighter, a knife, first-aid stuff, sunscreen, a jacket, blanket, tent, extra clothes, swimsuit, flashlight, compass, lifejacket, and fishing stuff. And the three of us all have our glasses. The other five I divided into extras for when we try to get off the island or we can move stuff into how they are in our bags if we find somebody else.”
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