~Scömìche One Shots~

Turbulence II

Major description warning here. It gets a bit gorey. Here we go...

My breath hitches painfully when an intense force launches me forward. I smack my head off of a protruding cup holder on the seat in front of me, crying out.

Before my brain can process what just happened, I'm engulfed in cold. Unbearable cold.

My head spins, begging for oxygen, but I soon realized there is none. I'm choking on ice-cold salt water. My eyes fly open, immediately stinging as my vision fogs. My forehead pangs with an unidentified pain, and I cry out again with bubbles as crimson billows out in the water in front of my eyes. I reach up a heavy hand to my eyebrow, where I feel a swollen bump... And an open cut.

My world spins with vertigo at the lack of oxygen and even the thought of the large wound. I ignore my queezy stomach as I glance around frantically.

I survived.

I'm still alive. But I'm not safe yet.

Unbuckling my seat belt with freezing fingers, I squint around. A neon orange strap floats a few feet in front of me from under a seat. Inflatable lifeboat.

Black specks invade the corners of my vision as I free myself from the constricting belts, pushing myself through the water as slow as I can, as to not use too much of my draining energy. I grasp the strap with my outstretched hand, pulling that pack out with a few tugs.

A terrible creaking from above me interrupts the deafening silence, irritating my sensitive brain. My vision doubles as I move my head a little too fast to see the source of the noise.

The ceiling suddenly collapses, ripping the capsule almost in half as debris floats down all around me. A flash of light from beyond the hole in the metal tells me one thing:

We're still close to the surface.

I flip the pack over, skimming my eyes over the emergency instructions. Just as I grab the handle to the pull string, a bit of billowing flowery fabric catches my eye.

She doesn't deserve this.

Without any warning or consent, my lungs fill with cold, choking me. At first I don't understand, but then I realize. My lungs involuntarily inflated, filling with salty icewater. A dull yet piercing burn starts in my chest, spreading like fire. I'm drowning.

I forcefully push myself forward, right by her side, before pulling the string with all of my strength. The boat inflates faster than I can think, yanking me up abruptly. Just as I'm about to be pulled away, my fingers wrap securely around a frail wrist.

The water around me gets increasingly lighter as the buoyant devise tugs us upwards, everything coming to a halt as my foot gets caught on an overhang of jagged metal. I kick frantically, desperately, my brain's relentless begs for air starting to get jumbled and fuzzy at the edges.

My foot is wrenched free from the iron claw, leaving my shoe behind and tearing my sock... As well as the flesh beneath it. I let out a silent shriek, the burn spreading up my throat. I shut my eyes so I don't witness the water quickly being dyed crimson.

My head feels extremely heavy, and my skin feels exceptionally cold on my face. The hair on my forehead is whipped to the side. Wind!!

I open my eyes to churning water and lighting. A terrible wracking cough escapes my lips, water cascading down my chin in its wake. I breath in.

My brain is overwhelmed. The breath isn't big, but it's enough for my head to spin impossibly faster and my limbs to erupt in pins and needles. Blood rushes to my brain, and I let out another cough, followed by more water.

I pull myself, and the old woman, up onto the floating raft. My whole body trembles with an uncontrollable coughing fit, endless streams of water forcing their way out of my throat and nose.

My stomach swings and it hits me. I double over and empty my stomach over the edge, hot tears streaming down my face, mixing with the salt and blood.

I lay back, finally able to breath somewhat-normally. I almost always have had a certain someone to hold me when I'm sick or hurt. I wipe my itchy face with twitchy waterlogged fingers and start to sob. Pulling the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands, I tuck my knees to my chest.

A violent rock of the raft sends a limp hand to fall over my uninjured foot. I cringe, whimpering as I inch away from the unmoving body at my feet. I refuse to look at her.

Thunder claps and a bolt of lightening flashes across the sky, lighting up just enough for me to get a full view out of my peripheral vision.

My chin falls to my chest as the world fades around me, and I faint.

~

Shouting voices make their way through my clogged ears as I come to. Red and blue lights dance on my eyelids, wakening my foggy brain. My eyes sting as I blink them open. It's still dark, but the storm seems to have passed.

"The man is consious!" I hear a gruff female's voice yell.

I open my mouth to say something, but all I can do is cough up more water.

"Water in the lungs. Possible hypothermia. Hoist him up, why don't you?! Let's go!"

Before I know it, large hands are under my armpits and lifting me up onto a more steady ground. Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders, and another person forces an open bottled water into my hand. I chug half of it greedily, the coolness soothing my throat.

"Sir, what is your name? Can you tell your name please?" I look up to see an older man staring at me with careful eyes. His salt-and-pepper brows are furrowed with concern as he checks my pulse and forehead wound.

"The woman is unresponsive!" I hear another voice say.

Turning my head, I look to see a group of people dealing with the old woman I helped. A younger man rests his head on her upper chest while holding her wrist, then yells, "No pulse or breathing. Someone begin CPR!"

"Is she dead?" I croak, the words coming out as barely a whisper.

"Can you please tell me your name, sir?"

"She's dead." My brain refuses to focus on anything else.

"Was she a relative, sir?"

"N-no... She was nice to me. I got her out of the water, " I cough lightly into my palm, "so is she dead?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, sir. Please tell me your name," he insists again.

"Mi-Mitch Grassi," I say as a shiver runs through my body. I pull the blanket tighter around me.

"I think he's in shock..." I hear the man whisper to a woman walking towards us, more blankets in her arms.

"That's expected," she mumbles, "he just survived a damn plane crash." A smile appears on her face as she crouches down in front of me. "I have some extra blankets for you, Mitch, you must be so cold..."

"Thank you," I breath, my voice cracking audibly.

"Your family and friends must be so worried. It was all over the news, social media, everything. Just imagine what they'll think when they find out!"

"Yeah," I murmur, smiling as well as I can with chapped lips, "he'll be so happy."

~~~

My dad travels a lot for work. This is a genuine fear of mine. I've never been on a plane, but he travels overseas to random places for his work all of the time, and has done for years. It's like one in every million flights that crash, but sometimes there's an outlier, right? I get so anxious every time I watch him dissappear into the airport. And if any of you have seen Cast Away with Tom Hanks you'll know that shit's scary.

Anyway, thanks for reading. And for those who suggested writing a part two, thanks! I probably wouldn't have done it otherwise, and I'm actually pretty satisfied with this for once xD