Crash

by Inconcessus

There is a one in a million chance of dying in a plane crash. You literally have more chance of being killed by food poisoning. Bella's plane crashed in the mountains, and from what she can tell - she is the only survivor. The radio doesn't work, apparently the pilots were too low budget for a black box, and she's pretty sure her arm is going to fall off. But she has to survive.

1. Prologue

'The odds of dying in a plane crash are 11 million to 1'. That's what mom had said when she saw me onto the tiny plane that would take me across the Washington Cascades to dad's village in Canada. 11 million to 1. There was literally more chance of dying from food poisoning than from a plane crash. 'But mom', I said. What about this tiny-ass plane that looks like it's been strapped together with duct tape? Surely there's more chance of going down in this midget of an aircraft? Apparently not. More people are killed by ladders each year than in a plane. There's probably more chance of me being killed by a goat than in this plane. So when I strapped myself in and kicked my bag under my seat, I waved goodbye with a smile and prepared myself to traverse the air with the 3 other people that were making the journey to Salmo with. Those two people being the Pilot and Co-Pilot, along with the scrawny redhead across the cabin from me. If we went down, at least only 4 people would die. It wouldn't be a big deal.

So as the rickety little plane ascended, I kept reminding myself that it was so unlikely that anything would happen. I made this trip every year, and nothing had ever gone wrong. Ever. Not once. It would be fine.

"You okay back there, Bella?" Bud called from the cockpit. I grunted an affirmative response and settled in for the flight. There was literally more chance of me dying from getting struck by lightning than by dying today.

So if it was so unlikely, then why were we, 2 hours later, hurtling towards the Washington Cascades at an extremely high speed, while Chad screamed into his radio and Bud attempted to regain control? So unlikely. The weirdest thing? It was so quiet. There was metal shrieking while the cabin disintegrated, but it all went silent. And when we hit the side of the mountain, my seatbelt popped. So weird. I remember thinking to myself, 'That wasn't so bad, right? Wow'. Easy landing. Nothing. But then there was a jerk, and the cabin sheared in two. The kid across from me was launched through the gap in a second and luckily for him, probably died instantly. The sound came back in a rush, the metallic sound of the ripping metal and the soft whoosh as the open tube of the fuselage lit like a flame thrower. I heard awful screams from the cockpit and that's when I was thrown from my seat. Probably because of the seatbelt popping when we hit. Otherwise I would have burnt with them. But I was free, weightless. I glided out of the gap between the two parts of the cabin and slipped past the torn metal, grazing my arm. I was weightless – flying. And when I hit the ground a few seconds later, it didn't even hurt.