Day One
Day One
I open my eyes. For a moment everything looks beautiful. For a second, I forget where I am and why I am here. In the ocean, completely under water the scene looks almost magical. The sunlight is shining through the water and I tilt my head, admiring the scene. All of a sudden, panic swells inside me like a balloon ready to pop. I hastily swim to the surface, desperate for oxygen. When my head bursts out of the water, I swallow huge gulps of air. Suddenly, I wish I had stayed underwater, where everything was beautiful and peaceful.
Here, above the surface everything is confusing and chaotic. People are screaming and crying for help. And just like when you wake up in the morning in a happy mood, and it all drains away when you remember you have a test that day that you forgot to study for-I have that feeling. I remember what I am doing here and why. I feel numb and for a moment have a hard time keeping my head above the water.
I take a deep breath, trying to bring myself together. I turn in a circle, taking in my surroundings.
To my right I see dead bodies in the water. I notice that some people are swimming for shore; others are calling out for help. I also see plane parts in the water, some floating in different directions and some sinking.
I keep turning. The beach is now in front of me. Behind the beach, are bright green trees everywhere. But the beach itself is not as pleasant to look at.
Plane parts are scattered everywhere-smoke is coming up from them, people look confused and panicked, bodies are lying on the sand, not moving. I start swimming quickly towards shore. I start passing someone on my left who is screaming for help, saying how she can't swim. I instantly change course and head towards her. "Help! Help! I can't swim!" she pleads.
"It's okay, I'm going to help you." I try to comfort her, but it doesn't seem to do much good. I wrap my arms around her and tell her to kick her legs. It was harder swimming to the beach than I thought. My muscles were sore and I was still shaking a bit. But we finally make it.
Once we hit shallow water, I make sure she can walk okay and then head back out into the water, anxious to help more people to shore. After helping a couple more people, I drop down on the beach, exhausted. As I was catching my breath, I hear a little girl call out for her mother. She said she was meeting her in LA. Someone told her she didn't know where she was and that they hadn't made it to LA yet.
A few minutes later, I head back in the water and thankfully, I'm not the only one. A few others are going back in the water to help other people to shore. One of the people I notice in the water frequently is a Hispanic person, probably in her mid-twenties. She is wearing a black spaghetti-strap top and dark jeans. I realized later, by the sound of her voice, that she had been the one talking to the little girl. Another person I see is an African American guy. He's tall and very big and muscular.
Thinking back, I realize that I immediately admired him. Probably because he was the only one that I saw going into the water to drag all the dead bodies out.
I keep helping people to shore until I can't see anyone else in the water. I turn my back on the crashing waves and see the terror now on the beach. People are panicked. Some are running around, some screaming, some are asking people if they've seen someone they know. Some are injured and the rest are helping or comforting those that are injured, scared, or both.
I stay out of the way and observe everything and everyone. This is how I usually am; I observe my surroundings, before getting involved. I sit down on the sand, catching my breath and letting my sore muscles relax before I get up to help people who need help. I look at my arms and legs to see how badly hurt I am. Other than a few cuts and scrapes, I look and feel fine.
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to try and stop my body from shaking so much. As I try to calm down from the shock of what just happened, I hear the cry of people in pain or someone grieving because they lost someone or couldn't find someone. I open my eyes, still not believing that this happened to me. All of a sudden, a man in his mid-thirties comes running out of the jungle calling for help. He has brown hair, is wearing a somewhat dirty bluish-gray polo shirt and light tan pants. He continues, saying there is someone in the jungle. Immediately, the Hispanic girl and I get up and run to the guy pointing back at the jungle.
All three of us run at top speed into the jungle. After a few paces into the jungle, I hear someone calling for help. We go to a tall tree and see someone strapped to their seat, which is barely clutching to the thin branches. It looked like at any moment it would fall and the man would crash to his death. Now, I look up at his terrified face. Like most of the survivors, his head is bleeding, but not too bad. It was probably just a mild scrape. He looked to be in his fifties, maybe sixties. He is wearing a tan polo shirt and torn jeans. His seatmate's head is lying in his lap. I guess that he must be dead and wondered how many had survived the crash. The two adults start discussing what they are going to do.
The Hispanic girl took charge right away. She asked him his name. He hesitates a little, and then answers Bernard.
"You're going to be all right Bernard." She says in a calming, but authoritative voice. "I need you to unbuckle your seatbelt and grab the branch next to you."
Bernard looked to his left, at his seatmate.
"Is he dead?" he asks, most likely stalling for fear of moving. I knew how he felt.
Sometimes it was just easier to stay where you are than try something scary and risk getting hurt or making a fool of yourself. Other times it's just because of shock and you don't want to think or move.
"I think he's dead!" He says again. The guy on the ground whispers something and she replies no. He is probably suggesting of climbing up there himself, but neither the Hispanic nor I think it is a good idea. He might move the branches too much and loosen the seat, endangering Bernard.
She seemed to be getting anxious. "You need to focus Bernard and unbuckle your seatbelt." She says in a firmer voice.
Bernard finally did as he was told and with shaking hands unbuckled his seatbelt. Once this was accomplished, he clutched the armrests in a death grip.
"Now grab the branch next to you," she instructs him.
"I-I don't think I can do that," Bernard says carefully.
"Bernard, those seats are going to fall," she says, warning him with a voice that would make anyone do what she told them.
He very slowly stretches out his shaking arm. Without realizing it, I hold my breath, hardly daring to look. He leans forward fingers stretching for the branch.
"C'mon Bernard you can do it." She encourages.
"You're so close!" I yell.
Bernard still couldn't quite reach it. He reaches with his other arm, leaning forward just a little more. Unconsciously, my muscles tighten as I hear the branch move and make almost a cracking sound. The Hispanic shouted his name as the cracking sound got louder.
Finally the branch snaps and I see the two seats come crashing down, bringing with them more branches from trees below it. I scream, silently praying that Bernard grabbed the branch in time. We all look at each other, then look up. Bernard is clutching onto the branch for dear life. He has this look on his face, like he just saw his life flash before his eyes.
"All right, hang on tight okay. I'm comin' up to get ya." She says as she starts for the tree. The guy and I exchange looks of relief. And for some odd reason, I feel this bitterness inside me as we exchange relieved smiles. Looking back I realize what it was that I didn't like about him. As we exchanged relieved smiles, he was looking me over.
Not in the 'checking me out' kind of way, but the way a police officer makes mental notes of someone that catches their attention or of someone they pull over. They look over them, so they can make a very detailed description of the person later if needed.
The other thing I didn't like about him was his eyes. When I was fourteen, my mom died. Only, my dad, sister, grandma, and I had the same look in our eyes. The look of someone grieving-the look of shock during the first forty-eight hours.
That day, everyone had the look of frozen shock in their eyes. The look that says, this happened to me? Are you sure this happened to me? Everyone had that look, everyone except him. His eyes were scared, but they were a different kind of scared. It was almost like he was hiding something.
I look away and follow the lady towards the tree and watch as she climbs up, ready to help if needed. When they finally get close to the ground I help her help Bernard down the rest of the way. We make our way back to the beach and find a comfy place to sit and watch the sunset. We all went our own ways, except for me. I sit down next to Bernard.
"I'm Cara." I introduce myself.
"Nice to meet you and thanks for helping me." He mentions.
"No problem." I answer.
A friendship starts to form between us-the kind of friendship where you both have gone through something horrible and are taking comfort in each other's company.
As I sit there, I notice the two I went into the jungle with, trying to make a fire. The African American is with the two little kids, the brother and sister. Everyone else is just sitting around or looking for things. As I sit there, my mind fades away from the beach and back to when this had all started.
I run as fast as I can, dragging my suitcase and trying to keep my backpack from falling over my shoulder. I have to make the plane, I think desperately. Everything seemed to be going wrong that day. Once I had gotten past security, there was another problem. There were so many people in the airport, I could barely get through! Finally, breathing hard, I see my plane number up ahead. With new strength and energy, I sprint towards it. A guy was shutting the door just as I run into him, knocking all his papers everywhere.
"I'm so sorry, but I have to get on this plane!" I exclaim.
"Do you have your ticket?" he asks grumpily.
"Yes, it's in here somewhere." I gasp, shuffling through the papers.
"Fine, get on!" he almost yells, opening the door.
"THANKS!" I yell as I shove a handful of papers towards him and run through the tunnel to the plane. I find an empty seat and breath a huge sigh of relief.
Almost two weeks ago, her dad, sister, and Cara drove out to California to visit family. A week later, her dad and sister drove back to Colorado, while she stayed with her aunt, uncle, and cousin. A few days later, they all boarded a plane to Hawaii. That was Cara's 16th birthday present for her from her dad. They landed in Oahu, stayed about a week, and had a great time. She stayed with them a few days after that, then she planned to fly back to Colorado. But everything had gone wrong that morning. The alarms didn't go off, they got stuck in traffic, and Cara barely made it to her plane. But, at least she made it.
I start to listen to my music, drumming my fingers and feet to the beat of the music. And I don't hear the pilot say we were landing in Sydney, Australia.
I'm sure you can imagine her surprise when she got there! Cara immediately called her dad, explained the situation, and told him not to come get her. She said she would be on the next flight back and she already had a ticket. Cara hung up, hoping he would get her message soon. But when Cara went to get her ticket after she hung up, she noticed that the only plane going anywhere near Colorado was Los Angeles, California. No other flight was going anywhere close to there in a few weeks. Cara bought it and thought she could stay with friends of the family who lived somewhere in southern California.
She spent the day exploring the city, taking pictures, buying souvenirs, and shopping. She got a hotel room and headed back to the airport the next day. Thankfully she made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. She headed to the back of the plane and found her seat. This time she listened until the pilot was done talking.
Good, I'm headed for LA, I think thankfully. The flight was going well. It was boring, but I didn't mind too much. I enjoy flying. Suddenly, the plane starts to shake. A few passengers get a little nervous, but I was fine. The pilot came on saying how it would be a bumpy ride for a while. But he never finished what he was saying. This time, the plane jumped and shook. Everyone started to get scared, including me. The plane was shaking so much; things started flying out of the overhead bins. One of them hit my seatmate in the head, knocking him out. Oxygen bags drop out and I put mine on, breathing deeply to stop my uncontrollable shaking. The plane went smoothly for a few seconds, and then started acting up again. Please don't let this plane crash, I pray. Please just let-I stop as something strange happens. The plane felt like it stopped, next thing I know it feels like the plane is going backwards. What's happening? I wonder, close to tears.
I grasp my armrests as my end of the plane felt like it was being sucked down. I watch helplessly as the plane tears apart right in front of me. Someone who was trying to get back in their seat gets sucked out of the open end of the plane. I feel a scream gather in my throat as I get that butterfly feeling in my stomach as we drop down to the earth below. I try to close my eyes, but they remain wide open. It felt I was like being sucked into a black hole. I grip my armrests, panic taking over me. My seatbelt snaps and I tighten my muscles as gravity pulls the plane down to earth at what seems like the speed of light. I finally find my voice and scream as it felt like I was being pulled from the plane. I flew away from the crashing plane, as if I had been shot from a cannon. I try to scream as I started falling, but nothing comes out. I hit the water, hard. And then, there was blackness. I couldn't remember if I passed out or not, but I remembered being afraid of the darkness closing in on me like a tightly wrapped wool blanket.
I felt like I was claustrophobic for the first time in my life.
I open my eyes and suddenly felt peaceful. And, well-you know the rest.
I kept thinking about what had happened until I got back to the present.
I also get the answer to one of my earlier questions. There are about twenty-three survivors. By nightfall, we had a pretty big fire burning.
Bernard got up and went over to the African American that had pulled the dead bodies out of the water. He was sitting alone, away from the fire. I turn my head, wanting to know why Bernard had left. I overhear Bernard asking him if he pulled out any African Americans. The guy said he hadn't.
"It's my wife. I can't find her." Bernard says, close to tears. I feel a wave of sympathy for him.
"I will pray for her." He reassures him with an African accent.
"Where the hell are the rescue plans?" Bernard asks.
"I will pray for them as well." He adds.
Later that night……
Everyone fell asleep by the fire that night. It was hard to get to sleep at first; sand isn't very comfortable, especially when you're tired and sore. But in the end, everyone fell asleep, feeling warm and safe for the first time since the crash.
It didn't last long though; I was woken up to the sound of someone walking in the forest. I pick my head up, listening and wondering what was going on. Next second, it sounded like someone was trying to talk, but they had something over their mouths. It was followed by the sound of someone struggling. By now, everyone had woken up. Then, footsteps were heard, everywhere.
"What was that?" the Hispanic girl, whom I am beginning to see as our leader, asks.
"Libby, watch the kids." She instructs as she and the brown-haired guy grabbed burning sticks from the fire. "Over here." He shouts. They both take off in the direction of the noise. I want to follow them, but stay behind. Libby tries to comfort the kids as the two disappear into the jungle. They come out of the jungle with the African American. He is covered in blood and is looking at the ground. I don't get any answers until the next day.
Day Two
I find out that two kidnappers tried to take Echo, the big African American, but he killed them. Now, they were lying on the beach, in dirty clothes and no shoes.
"No cell phones, no wallets, no keys, nothing." Ana Lucia grumbles. I had finally found out our leader's name. I also found out that the brown-haired guy's name is Goodwin and the only person my age was named Eric.
"Are you okay?" Ana asks Echo.
Before he can answer someone comes running out of the jungle.
"Look, three of the people are missing. The blonde guy, the curly-haired guy, and the German who was helping us with all of our injuries." He finishes off.
"Did you see anything?" Ana asks him.
"No, I"-
"Where they came from? How many there were?" She cuts him off.
"No, no I didn't see anything." He answers. "Who are these people?"
"I don't know. They're out here in the jungle with no shoes, nothing in their pockets, no labels on them." Next she says something, nobody wanted to hear. "These people were here before us."
We all gathered in a circle. Ana, of course, is the first to speak. "We need to get off the beach; we need to find a safer place."
"We've got kids and people who are seriously hurt. Where are we gonna go? Hmm?" The guy who had discovered who was missing questions. "How are we gonna move them? And what about the signal fire? How are we all gonna get rescued if we're off the beach?" he continues.
"Nathan's right." Goodwin says. Apparently that guy's name is Nathan.
"They have satellites, the black box. We don't need a fire for them to find us." Ana shoots back.
"Yes, we do." Everyone turned their attention to someone in her thirties with short brown hair and an Australian accent. I suddenly realize she was one of the airline stewardesses. "Before the crash, the pilot said we lost communication. We were turning back. We were flying for two hours in the wrong direction. They don't know where to look."
Everyone looked helpless, even Ana Lucia.
Day Three
Thankfully, we weren't attacked that night. But the weather the next day was gloomy. Everyone seemed to have lost all hope and didn't know what to do. People spent their time collecting things off the beach, nobody was really talking. I collected seashells and started making a necklace with some string I found spilling out of a suitcase. So far, three people had died. A guy with a broken leg had an infection that was getting worse. I heard Libby, who took a year of nursing, then became a clinical psychologist; tell Ana that he would be the fourth to go if we didn't do something.
Everyone looked the same-worn out, tired, scared, and in need of some sleep. Ana didn't look much better. "What am I supposed to do about that?" she asked Libby. Libby didn't answer, she just walked away.
It was almost exactly the same the next day, but I found out that Ana was a police officer. I tried to talk to Goodwin, but he seemed resistant to give me any information about himself. Nathan didn't want to talk and Echo wouldn't talk. He hadn't said a word since the night he killed those two guys, possibly in order to save his own life. I wondered what was going to happen to us if and/or when the native people came back.
Day Five
On the fifth day, the guy with the leg infection died. He's number four. I wonder who will be next? I thought depressingly. Other than that, the day was the same as day four.
Day Six
All my hope and positive attitude had almost completely drained away. Until I saw a bunch of people chasing a chicken who was trying desperately to get away. FOOD! I thought happily. Goodwin finally grabbed it. I smiled and then realized that a small chicken could not feed sixteen people and I'd be lucky to even get a bite. Luckily, I did, despite my negative thoughts. Over the next few days, everyone stayed around the beach, not doing much. We kept the signal fire going and everyone started to forget about The Others, as I now called them. I had finished my necklace and now mostly spent time with Eric, but it was weird. I felt the same bitterness towards him as I did Goodwin.
Only this bitterness was slightly different, but I didn't know how, it just was. I also noticed that Goodwin gave him nasty looks when he thought no one was looking.
One day, I heard a conversation between them. "You've been causing nothing, but trouble! You aren't even supposed to be here!"
"I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to do!"
"You never do!"
This was the conversation, but I didn't pick up all of it. They were talking in hushed voices and I wasn't thinking straight because of the lack of sleep. Then, Goodwin told
Eric to be quiet and tilted his head toward me. I scampered away, afraid of being caught.
Day Twelve
Day twelve was almost the same as any other day. Except I heard Ana getting onto Nathan after he came out of the woods alone. Apparently, he had been gone awhile; I hadn't noticed he was gone until he got back.
"Where were you?" she asked him.
"I had to go to the bathroom." He answered, not looking at her.
"We have a system for that," she answered. "We go in pairs."
"Yeah, sorry." He answered back sarcastically.
They stared at each other for a few seconds; Ana was the first to look away.
Later that night…
Everyone was sleeping peacefully around the fire. I am a light sleeper and awoke quickly as I feel someone grab me and quickly cover my mouth. At first it doesn't dawn on me what is happening, but I quickly understand as I hear the screams of others that are being taken. I couldn't believe it, I was being kidnapped. I immediately start struggling. Everything was chaotic. People started screaming, telling others to look out, people were being grabbed left and right. I lost sight of my surroundings as my capture threw a bag over my head. The screams start getting fainter and fainter. I begin to panic even more. What if I never see my friends again? What if I never see my family again? I struggle harder and I was dropped a few inches. I keep struggling with all my might. I was now being dragged along, making a line in the dirt.
I could barely hear her friends now. I keep struggling, but it did no good.
Finally, something clicked inside my brain and instead of trying to get my hands free and my feet under me, I tried something else. Instead, I went for my kidnapper's legs. I caught them off guard as I grabbed their ankles quickly. The person tripped backwards and I finally pulled myself free. I didn't waste any time, I shot off towards the beach as fast as I could go. Once or twice I thought I heard footsteps behind me and I ran faster.
Right as I hear Ana ask where I am, I come running out of the jungle, breathing hard.
"Are you okay?" Libby asks. I nod, shaking. She went over to Ana who was pulling something out of one of The Other's pockets. She was a blonde and appeared to be dead.
"Is that a knife?" someone asked. I get closer. It was a piece of paper.
"What is that?" Goodwin asks.
"It's a list." Ana answers.
"A list of what?" Libby asks.
"Ten-ten of us." She says bitterly. Then she looked at me. "You're on it."
I wasn't too surprised to hear this, since I had just been kidnapped, or tried to. I quickly explained what happened. When I was done, people started asking me all kinds of questions. Did you see who grabbed you? Did you see which way they went?
Question like that. I didn't know the answers to any of them.
At first, I thought Ana might suspect me of lying. It seemed highly unlikely that I got away that easily. But several witnesses backed me up, saying they saw me being dragged into the jungle. All the bruises, scrapes, and cuts on my arms were signs that I was in a fight or struggle.
About five minutes later, Echo goes into the jungle to try and track them down. He returns angry. Ana questions him, but he just shakes his head. He hadn't talked since he killed the two guys that first night in order to protect himself. I feel angry, a deep, burning hatred forming inside me. Who were these people and what did they want? How dare they take us? They had no right! I feel even angrier when Echo can't find any trace of them. How can they drag ten people out into the jungle, including me, and not leave any trace? It just didn't make sense.
Ana was getting frustrated. Echo wasn't talking to her. He hadn't talked in over a week. "What needs to happen to make you say something?" she yells after him.
"Hey. Calm down, lets figure this out." Nathan says calmly, but with a frightened look in his eyes.
"Calm down? Let's figure this out?" Ana repeats him. She showed him The List. "Here are the names of every single person they took, all ten of them. What they were wearing, what they looked like. One of them had a list of us."
"Coulda' gotten our names from the people they already took." He tries, not looking at her.
"Nobody knew anybody's names the first night." She interrupts him.
"Maybe they're watching us." He tries again, this time looking at her.
"You were gone for two hours yesterday," she says narrowing her eyes at him.
"What!?"
"Where were you?" she questions him.
"I was going to the bathroom," he defended himself.
"Hey, stop!" Goodwin tries. Suddenly, I feel angry again.
"You were going to the bathroom for two hours!?" I yell at him. Goodwin gave me a hard look, I glare back at him.
"We're all scared, it's like we're paranoid here. We don't know anything." Goodwin continues.
I notice how calm he sounded, acted, looked, almost as if he had expected this to happen.
"He's right. Why would they try to infiltrate us? Th-th-that's crazy." Pitched in Bernard.
"Well, whoever they are, they know we're here. We need to leave this beach." Libby's voice rose strong. Ana turns to Goodwin.
"You said we needed to keep the signal fire burning." He looks around, as if thinking for a quick answer. I grow even more suspicious. I begin to feel that burning hatred again as I think back to the first day on the island. Goodwin had run out of the jungle ten minutes after they crashed and he wasn't even wet! Maybe he didn't land in the water, I thought. But what if he wasn't on the plane? I couldn't help thinking.
"I think it's time we put it out." He finally comes up with an answer. Ana seems to buy it, but I didn't. Ana turns her suspicious glare on Nathan; the one I seem to think is one of the innocent ones. I desperately wanted to share my thoughts with Ana and couldn't wait until next day when she would be in more of a mood to hear them. But right now, the discussions and accusations were over, it was time to leave the beach.
Unfortunately, I would never get that chance to defend Nathan.