𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚝𝚠𝚘

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𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚝𝚠𝚘. 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗

It was 3 'o clock in morning, nearly three weeks after Bhavika had woken up.

Bhavika was tossing and turning in her hospital bed, her heart rate was spiking.

Her plane jostled.

"I've taken my plane down." A man's voice said and everyone around her cheered.

Putrid fumes entered her lungs.

"Get back to the boat aviators." A woman over the communications sounded happy for the first time in two months.

Bhavika's throat began to dry.

It smelled like something was burning.

Everything was flashing red.

Red.

Flash.

Red was never good.

Flash.

Red was always bad in these situations.

Flash.

It was getting hot in the cockpit.

Flash.

"No, no, no, shit, shit, shit." She whispered frantically, she was trying to remain calm but it wasn't helping. Her brain was working overtime.

The red blaring letters read SYSTEM FAILURE.

Flash.

She had never imagined she would ever have to say this. Bhavika choked out the three words no naval aviator ever wants to hear from anyone or say to anyone.

"I've been hit."

The enemy plane had been taken down, but they were taking her down to the sea with them. Dragging her by the ankles to the sea below and she had no way of escape. Her plane began to fall, plummeting towards the water. None of her training had ever prepared her for this, her own death.

"Lieutenant Patel eject now!" The same woman screamed at her.

She tugged at the ejection handle, "It's stuck." She said quietly.

"Try again!"

"Lieutenant Patel!"

"LIEUTENANT PATEL!" The woman howled to no response.

Bhavika had entered a state of shock that left her only with her thoughts, her body was unmoving. She didn't notice the red lights anymore.

She looked at the sea, she hated it. It was supposed to be her friend it was supposed to make her feel safe. She had been betrayed by something that had comforted her during her hardest times. She looked at the star she saw earlier. Her father. He was supposed to guide her to back home, not to death. He had failed her too.

𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 ༄ 𝗷. 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗻Where stories live. Discover now