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Post by Claire Littleton on Mar 26, 2009 17:39:15 GMT -6
Flight 407 was a couple of hours in when the plane rattled slightly, causing plastic cups set on trays to shift and slide. Bing! A voice came on the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. There’s a little bit of turbulence up ahead. Please stow your belongings and return your trays to their upright positions." A flight attendant began walking down each aisle with a trash trolly, picking up used cups and empty continental dinner trays.
The plane jolted again, and this time people hastened to snap their seatbelts snugly around their waists. The flight attendants hurried in their tasks.
Suddenly, the plane began rattling in earnest, jumping like it was being shaken in a tumbler. People murmured worriedly, but true fear only spiked through them when they felt in the pit of their stomachs the plane begin to lose altitude, and the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling.
As people scrambled to put them on, the routine safety measures they had ignored at the beginning of the flight fleeing from their minds, the intercom came on again. "Please put on your oxygen masks, we’re experiencing some pressure changes and-"
There was a terrible roar as the plane swung around suddenly, and the tail end of it was ripped violently off, spinning away into the clear blue skies – clear blue skies that surely shouldn’t have yielded such turbulence.
Some overhead bins popped open, spilling their contents down onto passengers. A thin scream fought to be heard over the banging and shuddering of the plane.
Then with another great groan of tortured metal, there was a gaping blue hole in the front of the plane as well – the cockpit was gone.
They were going down. They were crashing. They were doomed. -----------------
Open to all Fuselodge survivors! |
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Post by Claire Littleton on Mar 26, 2009 17:39:48 GMT -6
Claire woke up to the shrill whine of an engine and ragged screams. She blinked up at the sky in astonishment for a long moment - she couldn't believe she was still there. When the plane had gone down, when it had been torn apart, she had fully expected that she was going to die. But there was the sky, a peaceful blue mockery of the chaos around her, and there was sand stuck to her skin, getting in her clothes, and there--
She gasped as pain ripped suddenly through her stomach, jolting her out of her daze with a sudden wash of fear. It wasn't over yet. It so wasn't over. There was another contraction, like a dagger in her belly, and Claire cried out, one hand flying to her stomach while she used the other to brace herself as she struggled to sit up. Oh, God, oh, God.. She couldn't be going into labor now! She was only at eight months!
When Claire looked around her, she was horror-stricken. She knew the crash had been bad, but God - there were pieces of plane on fire, there were people lying broken and bleeding on the beach.. She found the source of the engine whine she'd heard before - one of the plane's engines lay, blades still spinning, not far from her, sucking up and pulverizing debris. She had to move, had to get away from it. Struggling for breath and trying not to hyperventilate while tears began to pool in her eyes, stopping and biting back a cry each time pain shot through her swollen belly, she slowly got to her hands and knees and began to crawl away from the engine. |
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Post by Adam Barsow on Mar 28, 2009 8:18:20 GMT -6
Adam experienced the rumble of the plane, heard the ripping noises as it crashed…
He thought it was all a dream. All a scary, frightening, dream. A dream that would probably haunt him forever, a dream that would never, ever, die.
The last thing he remembered was sipping on a can of Coke, then falling swiftly into sleep beside his girlfriend. Suddenly, his girlfriend had shook him, shook him hard, waking him up, of course. “What? What?” he remembered shouting, half asleep. “The plane’s crashing!” Mary screamed, putting his seatbelt on and hers. But it was too late - everything went black, and a ripping, piercing noise sounded as the plane crashed into the - Concrete? Sandy? - ground. Shrieks, screams. Lights, fires….
And that’s where it ended. That’s all Adam remembers.
He was laying unconscious on the sandy floor, slowly slipping out of unconsciousness. He heard noises - blazing fires, people screaming… Then he heard nothing again.
Hours later, Adam awoke, finally able to open his eyes. There were no screams, but still blazing fires. Painfully, he rolled in his back, and attempted to get up. “Ouch,” he screamed, falling backward with another “ouch.” He looked down at his leg - blood surrounded it, and he could see a big gash there. “This is no dream,” he finally convinced himself, attempting to maneuver around this unfamiliar… island. He saw a woman - heavily pregnant, it seemed - crawling away, and her face was curled in pain.
Adam’s hair was ruffled and messy, and his clothes bloody and ripped. Mary? Thomas? Henry? he wondered of his dear friends, looking around for them as he tried to move to a tree and rest against it.
Word Count - 284
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Post by Claire Littleton on Mar 29, 2009 11:34:32 GMT -6
As waves of pain flowed out from her belly to the very tips of her fingers, a thin sheen of sweat very quickly coated Claire's skin. There was a cut on her forehead and an abrasion on her chin that both stung when the sweat got in them, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her stomach.
This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't! Oh, God, this had to all be a terrible dream.. But the pain told her otherwise. She couldn't have her baby here! Not now! It was too early, it was too terrible. What about anesthetic? Claire found herself thinking wildly. She couldn't handle this - there was no equipment, nothing, there was nobody to deliver it. It would die - it would die.
Feeling like every inch of her skin was on fire, Claire screamed, her voice one of many, "H-help! Somebody help me! Please! Please, some.. Somebod.." Her pleas trailed off into gasps, as she stopped crawling, simply unable to move any more, and held a hand to her belly, tears falling from her eyes as she prayed silently, begging whatever gods or angels that may be listening for some respite, some mercy. |
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Post by Kayla Slater on Mar 29, 2009 12:51:34 GMT -6
Kayla gasped as her head popped out of the water. The salty water burned her eyes and she grimaced when it got in her mouth. She was in shock. Vaguely she remembered what happened. The plane had made an awful groaning noise, the fasten-seat-belt light came on and the plane shook some more. She had clamped her eyes shut and pretended that it was all normal, that it was all okay. She thought about music, about her favorite song, about her friends she was going to visit. The rest she didn't remember.
But now she was in the water, gasping for air. Swimming as fast as she could to the shore, Kayla looked around her. There was a pregnant lady, who seemed to be in pain. She was not the heroic type. The nicest thing she had ever done was pick up a little lost kid in the grocery store. But something made her want to help this lady, maybe it was human compassion. Her legs felt wobbly as she ran over to the woman. "Are you okay?" She asked stupidly. Brown hair messily cascaded down her shoulders, and eyes the color of the ocean were wide and frightened.
Basically that was all she said. She was no doctor, but she was smart enough to figure that the woman was in labor. Kneeling next to the lady, only then did she notice the blood on her leg. It didn't hurt. Or sting. Or burn, for the matter. But there was a long cut running from her shin to her ankle. Kayla flinched. No doubt it would hurt like heck later. So she stayed crouched next to the lady, not really knowing what to say or what to do. Her mind wandered around and so did her eyes. There was a man over there, he looked like he was in pain too. God help us, she prayed inwardly.
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Post by Emmett Beckett on Mar 30, 2009 17:39:39 GMT -6
----
Breyden's stomach did a back flip as he felt the plane
quickly fall down to the ground. This can't be happening,
this can't be happening! He screamed in his head. He
had only seen this on movies, and it had been funny then,
but now it was cruel. He screamed as the plane his the
ground.
He heard his pulse in his ears and the screams of innocent
people, but he saw nothing. His vision was glazed over. Not
like it was when he was drunk either, it was pure white. Sudden
pain jerked him out of his shock and his vision returned. He got up
slowly and looked around. Their was blood, fire and metal everywhere.
He looked down at himself to see his arm sticking out in a
weird position. It wasn't the first time he had broken his
arm and it wouldn't be the last. He gently took his
shirt off a wrapped it up so he could bite down. When he was sure
that it was secure, he grabbed his arm and quickly snapped
it back into place. He made a loud noise, but it was almost
immediately drowned out by some woman's plea's for help.
His head snapped around indifferent directions. Their were
screams coming from every direction, but only one really
stuck out the most. He stumbled forward holding his arm
trying to find the source of the noise that he heard. He had never
been a person that cared about anyone, but the screams were
about to bring him to tears. "Where are you?" He yelled out.
He fell over a dead person's body and nearly had a stroke. There
was a piece of metal sticking out of their head. 'Oh my God!"
He yelled, puking everywhere. He stumbled up again and kept
waling down the trail he was going down, trying to find the screaming
woman. What if she wasn't real? What is he was just hearing things?
What is he was dead?
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Post by Claire Littleton on Mar 30, 2009 17:59:46 GMT -6
Biting her lip harshly, almost to the point of piercing the skin, Claire tried desperately to calm herself down, to keep from hyperventilating. But she had only to glance around her and see the horrors everywhere for panic to rise in her again.
Suddenly there was someone in front of her, asking her if she was alright. Wordlessly Claire shook her head, her breath coming out in a moan of pain. "I-I don't think so. I'm having.. I think I'm having contractions. I'm not supposed.. It's too- too early!"
She'd read some books on motherhood back when she and Thomas had still thought they were going to do the whole parenting thing, but afterwords.. She'd pretty much set her sights on adoption. She'd read up on what delivery would be like, but that was all in-hospital stuff, like the merits of getting an epidural versus other anesthesia, things like that. Nothing had prepared her for the idea of having to give birth a month early, just after she'd gone through the trauma of a plane crash, while people were dying around her and fires were raging.
She heard someone else call out, a male's voice. She had no idea if they were calling to her, or to someone they'd been traveling with, but she felt compelled to respond anyway, desperate for any help, and hoping against hope that there had been a doctor on the plane. God knew that all the other wounded would need one as well. "H-here!" she called. |
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Post by Kayla Slater on Mar 31, 2009 9:14:52 GMT -6
"It's okay," Kayla said, stupidly. She has no clue what to do or say, so maybe if she just faked it and acted calm, it would really be true. "Everything will be okay." She chewed on her lip. It was a shock that she even had a lip, with all the nervous biting she'd been doing. The plane made an awful moaning noise and started creaking. The girl looked back at it, wanting everything to be over. Wake up, she screamed, wake up! But it wasn't a dream. It was real.
There was a guy, calling out to the woman. Or maybe he wasn't, maybe he was searching for a loved one. It didn't matter. "We need to move you to a safer place," it wasn't a good spot they were in. Right in the middle of the half of the plane, and the rubble. "Maybe we can move back towards the forest a bit." She suggested, trying to keep her voice light. Usually she sucked at being calm. It in her nature. But there was something about this woman, that made her want to help, it made her want to be calm.
"Do you think you can move?" Kayla asked. "I'll help you." Her mind told her to run off, act like she'd never met the woman in her life. But her heart told her that, that was wrong. This was a person in need. If she was hurting like the pregnant lady, hopefully someone would be kind enough to help her. "Over here!" She yelled, waving her arms around, hoping that whoever had been calling out would see her. Everything will be fine.
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Post by Jack Singer on Mar 31, 2009 18:32:08 GMT -6
Jack's still body was laid out on the sand of the beach, very close to the water. He was unconscious at the moment. After a few waves crashed over him, however, he regained his consciousness and he spit the salty water out of his mouth. Gasping, he looked around to see what was going on. There were plane parts on fire and screaming people. Slowly, he got to his feet and staggered farther from the water. After a few steps, he tripped over a piece of metal from the plane and fell to the ground.
He had no idea what was going on. He remembered what happened in the last few moments before the crash. He was listening to some music - he couldn't remember the name of the song, however - and Chris told him he was going to the bathroom. Then, he heard an announcement come on, though he could barely hear it over the music. After that, everything was a blur. Wait.... Chris. One of the only friends he had wasn't around. Jack could only think the worst had happened to him. Chris was probably dead. He couldn't verify it yet, but his gut was telling him the man was gone.
Once again, he rose and staggered around, not knowing where he was going. All he wanted to do was get away from the fiery crash. He ended up underneath a tree, near where the other survivors seemed to be gathering. Looking down, he finally saw his bloody left leg, which explained why he wasn't walking straight. It wasn't like he never had damage to his legs before. He had two Purple Hearts, each of them for wounds in his legs. He ripped off what was left of his sleeves and tied the remains around his leg. So now, he leaned against the tree with his head in his hands, unaware of what was happening around him.
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Post by Caroline Chapman on Mar 31, 2009 19:30:15 GMT -6
 ( CAROLINE CHAPMAN )C[/color][/size] aroline's heart rushed in shock as the front of the plane quickly hurtled downward. At first, she felt like she was going to throw up, totally speechless. She covered her mouth, just staring as the cockpit of the plane broke off completely from the rest of the plane, the pilots in it, the place where the front and the center of the plane were separated just feet from her seat. Finally, her mouth burst. "Oh my God." It wasn't a scream, but a whispered statement in fear and shock. However, it quickly did turn into a scream. She tugged on the masks and put it on quickly, looking left and right, completely horrified. She was being faced with death, looking it in the eye as the engines burst into flame. Caroline suddenly heard a crack and a smash coming from behind her. Don't look back, don't look back-- She attempted to convince herself, but she did. Far in the back, screaming passengers of the second class section were falling. Caroline's eyes widened and she screamed at the top of her lungs, hyperventilating. She picked her suitcase up off of the floor and took out everything she would need, from make-up to a bag of chips she randomly had, to her jacket, to a blanket for a picnic she was going to go to if things hadn't gone so wrong. She clutched all of these things tightly, closing her eyes and praying to God that she was dreaming. Caroline opened her eyes, but everything was the same. She was still going to die.S[/color][/size] uddenly, the middle of the plane starting falling faster and faster, the ocean coming closer and closer. Caroline shook her head, not believing this. She screamed, hollering like a girl in a horror movie being murdered. Just when the plane met the ground, Caroline smashed her head against the wall upon impact, instantly passing out.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -T[/color][/size] he waves silently and gently moved back and forth, carrying the unconscious Caroline about in the water, just barely floating. She still tightly clutched her things, although they were all soaked. A deserted island was in view, only sand, trees, and a jungle near the center in sight. Finally, the waves dropped her off just at the end of the beach, the white sands cushioning her like a bed. All around her, scattered plane pieces had randomly fell around the beach, most of them on fire, slowly turning to ash. Her arm had a huge cut, blood splattered on it, and some blood had gushed out of her head when she hit it on the plane. Her white dress had been torn at the side. The end of the dress which had originally ended just below the knee now was torn up to the thigh, black ash spots here and there. A splat of blood near the strap of the dress displayed the mark the plane had left on her. The waves drifted away, leaving her there, lying there. In her dreams, it replayed everything that had just happened, only she really did die. She breathed short and sharp breaths. It wasn't a full dream, but only quick, short images. She lay still, her arm wound turning the sand around her blood-red. Death-red. Her nightmare might come true if she kept bleeding without any sort of treatment.[/center] |
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Post by Jack Singer on Mar 31, 2009 21:19:56 GMT -6
Jack let his arms fall down to his sides and slowly put his head back to the tree. A thought crossed his mind, and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He flipped it open and saw he had no service. Of course. Honestly, he didn't know why he checked it in the first place. They were on an island with no inhabitants. If there were people already living on the island, they would have shown themselves by now. He tossed the phone to the side and got back up. The engines were still on fire, so he would try to avoid them. He would also have to attempt to keep his footing so he wouldn't fall again, hurting himself more.
Jack was looking for anyone he could possibly help. He might not have been a medic while with the Marines, but he was sure he could fix a few cuts, if that was all the person had. Besides, even if he had been a medic, he would have had a serious lack of supplies. Soon, he came upon a blond girl in a white dress with a cut on her arm. He could probably do something to help her. "Hey, kid. You alright?" He asked, getting down on one knee. As he placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, he continued, slightly louder, "You conscious?" She wasn't moving, so he gave her a little push.
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Post by Emmett Beckett on Mar 31, 2009 22:47:35 GMT -6
----
Emmett's eyes flew from side to side as he heard someone scream over here. Were they talking to him or someone else? He saw people running around screaming and the bodies of others on fire. "My God." He said audibly. He grabbed the cross around his neck and jerked it off. He didn't need god anymore. God had abandoned them. He had sent them to their deaths. A little girl was kneeled down next to a body crying. He couldn't help her, his mind was set on finding the bloodcurdling scream he had heard earlier.
He saw a short, brunette woman jumping up and down. Was that the source of the noise. He stumbled to her side. "What the hell is going on?" He practically yelled. It wasn't her fault, but eh was prone to over reacting and getting pissed off in scary situations. He looked down to see a woman breathing in and out. She was swelled up like a balloon. 'Is she having a baby?" He asking. His mouth fell open as she screamed. He knelt down to her side. 'In case you haven't noticed lady, this isn't the best time to be having a baby." He said. He knew what to do. Delivering human babies was like delivering animal babies. He lifted her off the ground with ease and carried her away from the crash site. "Breath in and out and relax." He said. He took took his shirt and folded it into a pillow to lay her head on. |
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Post by Claire Littleton on Mar 31, 2009 23:04:22 GMT -6
Claire nodded jerkily at the brunette woman who'd come to her aid, more of a sign that she'd heard than with any conviction that everything would be fine. Seeing the wreckage around her, she wasn't sure if things would be fine ever again. But she couldn't think like that - if she thought like that, she'd just collapse into mad screams and be completely useless. Instead, she tried fiercely to tune out what was going on around her, instead focusing on the woman's face. "I-I don't know," Claire stammered to her. "Maybe. I guess I have to try."
But then with another person's appearance - the one who'd been calling earlier, perhaps? - that problem solved itself. Claire braced herself with one arm around his neck as the young man picked her up, trying to help as best she could. God, let this be over quickly, one way or another - there were certainly many other people who needed help too.
"I'm only eight months," she said again, like a mantra to deny that this could be happening. When he set her down again, Claire had enough presence of mind to say, "Thank you." |
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Post by Kayla Slater on Apr 1, 2009 9:10:08 GMT -6
Why she followed the guy and the pregnant woman was beyond her. It looked like the lady was being taken care of, so why did she need to help? Maybe it was because she felt like she owed it to someone to do something good in her life, and not just be a mistake. Like doing this one thing would get her back on Gods good terms. Highly, unlikely, but she still wanted to help. Kayla walked over to the two people and just stood there for a minute, not really sure of what to say.
"Need any help?" She finally asked, that would be the most appropriate thing to say in a situation like this. Her leg stung now and her mind drifted around. Where was the other half of the plane? When would they be rescued? Would they be rescued? So many questions flooded her mind, she shuddered and tried not to think of how things would be if they were stuck on the island.
Then she got angry. Angry at the stupid pilots for letting the plane crash. How could they do that? Why would they do that? They were supposed to be able to fly a plane, so why hadn't they stopped the crash? Kayla looked at the crash site. There were burning people, bleeding people, dead people, screaming people, and a person in labor. A smile played at the corners of her lips, but she held it back. We're doomed.
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Post by Caroline Chapman on Apr 1, 2009 15:38:01 GMT -6
( CAROLINE CHAPMAN )C [/color][/size] aroline's mind flashed the front of the plane toppling back down toward the Earth. People were screaming, babies crying, flight attendants failing at trying to keep everyone calm. Suddenly, a random door flew open next to Caroline's seat, and a flight attendant pushed her out of the plane, smirking. "Bitch!" She hollered at the attendant as she toppled toward the ground with no parachute. Body met ground, and she was dead.E[/color][/size] verything was black when things became clear again for Caroline. Her eyelids parted like curtains of a stage, and before her a man had pushed her, not the bitchy flight attendant on the plane. She was about to say something dramatic, like, Am I in heaven?, but suddenly a horrible sting shot up her arm like venom. "AUGH!" Caroline shrieked, her eyes shooting to the site of the pain. As soon as she saw the huge, bleeding cut on her arm, she shrieked once more like a prep who just saw a giant cockroach. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.." She repeated over and over. Everything that had just happened was coming back to her. She looked up from her arm to the man sitting next to her. "What do I do?!" Caroline pleaded, never having to deal with a foot-long cut bleeding like Niagara Falls before. "I'm going to die! I'm going to die in the middle of nowhere!" She sobbed, random thoughts running through her head as to what to do. Nothing that meant anything came to her, so her sparkling, pleading eyes turned to the man, hoping he had some clue how to stop the bleeding.[/center] |
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