It's hard to describe everything that happened last summer. Sure, things are almost back to normal and I'm a senior in high school now, but I'm a changed girl. After school I'll be going back to California which is, in itself, not a normal thing for me. Then again, nothing about last summer was normal. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I should start from the beginning. The whole thing started when I entered a poetry contest online to win a trip to the Middle East. I wasn't really too hopeful for winning since I didn't think my poem was even that good, I just wanted to go out on a limb and take a crazy chance. It was a complete surprise when I got a letter in the mail that said I was one of fifteen other winners.

My mom was ecstatic about my winning the trip. She wanted to plan everything I would do there, but I had to stop her; I prefer to just go and figure out what I want to do when I get to where I'm going without any hassles or silly deadlines. The weeks before the trip passed in a blur. Sometimes the days seemed to go by quickly, and other times they were agonizingly slow. Then the day of the trip arrived, and I felt extremely small and scared to go off into a completely different country all by myself. The plane taking me was very small, and that made it that much worse. My mom cried a lot when I got on the plane, and I even saw my dad shed a little tear. That was the last I saw of my parents.

The first half of the flight was uneventful. There was some turbulence, but it was light enough that I could sleep through it. It was during the second half of the flight when disaster struck. We were almost to our destination when terrorists aboard the plane decided to take over. Several people were brave enough to try and stop them, but even though they succeeded, the pilot and the copilot were killed in the process. The terrorists had lost the plane to us, but we lost the plane to the desert below us. I didn't remember the crash for a long while; I just remembered the plane plummeting swiftly to the ground before passing out, and then waking up long afterward in a dimly lit cave.

When I woke up I was alone and I was in a lot of pain; I felt as if I'd been thrown around like a rag doll in a metal box. I had bumps and bruises everywhere, and I felt a stabbing pain whenever I made even the slightest movement. Then I heard a metal door opening, and light flooded my small room causing me to shut my eyes against the sudden brightness. I heard people speaking in a language that wasn't English, and I instantly recognized it as the language the terrorists on the plane had used. I dimly recalled from somewhere that it was called Arabic.

I felt someone checking my arms and sides for broken bones, and I groaned. This stopped the talking, and everything grew instantly quiet. I opened my eyes to see a bald, middle eastern man with two guards behind him. Baldy was looking at me with an amused expression on his face. He said something to me in Arabic, but when I didn't respond he switched to a heavily accented English; much to my surprise.

"You are a very lucky girl to have survived that crash. No one else made it" he said. I tried to say something, but my throat was raw and sore and I could barely swallow.

"You won't be able to talk for a while yet, so if you can understand me just nod" Baldy said. I nodded, then groaned as a searing pain shot down my back. What the heck happened? I thought.

"Don't be so enthusiastic; you could hurt yourself worse than you already are, and we don't want that, do we? I well get our other prisoner to patch you up, so you'll be feeling better in no time" Baldy said. I gave a feeble nod, then felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. My eyes drooped shut, and I was plunged in darkness once again. When I woke up I felt marginally better, and I was in a different room.

"I hope you are feeling better. I did the best I could, but that gash on your back was very deep. You are lucky none of your organs were injured" someone said. It wasn't Baldy, I could tell by his voice, but I couldn't see where he was. After a minute of struggling I found my voice.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"My name is Yinsen, and we are in Afghanistan" the speaker replied, finally coming into view. He was an older Middle Eastern man with sparse, graying hair, and he wore glasses. I instantly liked him and smiled as best I could.

"My name is Emily, nice to meet you Yinsen" I said. Yinsen smiled and nodded, then sat down on a cot beside me that I hadn't noticed before. I sat up in my own cot slowly, wincing against the pain in my back.

"You shouldn't strain yourself, Emily. You need to rest and heal if you want to be strong again" Yinsen commented.

"I feel fine; it's just my back that hurts. I don't remember much about the plane crash though. Did I hit my head?" I said.

"Yes, you have a nasty bruise on the back of your head; I'm not surprised that you can't remember the crash" Yinsen said. I managed a small chuckle, and then felt weariness envelope me again. I was weaker than I had let on, I knew that, but I never realized I would be so tired. It would be nice if this was just a bad dream, I thought, yawning. Then I fell into darkness once again. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke there was another voice with Yinsen's, and it wasn't Baldy. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself face-to-face with a complete stranger. I cried out in surprise and jerked away, falling off my cot and onto the floor in the process. The fall jarred my back, and I had to kneel on the floor as still as I could until the pain subsided.

"You alright?" the man asked, frowning. I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. The man was American, and he looked like he was in his early forties. His hair was black and messy, and he had a short, unkempt beard on his chin. What he wore wasn't strange, except for the fact that under his simple, white, sleeveless undershirt there was a circular, bluish glow shining through it, and I couldn't keep myself from staring.

"Is something wrong?" the man asked, still frowning. I shook my head, then turned to Yinsen.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Three days. Mr. Stark here arrived shortly before you did, but he was being held in a different room. You look a little better, but you need to eat something. you had us both worried" Yinsen replied. I frowned.

"Stark, as in Tony Stark; the biggest weapons manufacturer in the U.S.?" I asked. Yinsen smiled.

"Yes, Tony Stark" he replied. I yawned and got up off the floor to sit on my cot, stretching.

"What do we have to eat?" I asked. Yinsen didn't reply, but handed me a plate with something that looked like noodles of some sort on it. I took the plate, frowned at the food, but then sighed and decided I'd rather eat weird food than be hungry. It smelled quite good, and then I realized how hungry I was and wolfed it down. I noticed Mr. Stark staring at me when I was finished, and I frowned at him.

"What's that blue light?" I asked suddenly.

"Do you know about my arc reactor?" Mr. Stark asked, crossing his arms. I nodded.

"I read about it somewhere, can't remember where though" I said.

"Well, this is sort of like a miniature arc reactor. It's the only thing keeping the shrapnel in my body from piercing my heart and killing me" he replied.

"I thought the arc reactor couldn't be put to practical use; I thought you just built to satisfy the hippies or something like that" I said. Stark grinned.

"Nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it" he said. I made a face.

"None of that thank you; I hear it enough from my parents" I said. Stark just chuckled, and Yinsen merely smiled at me. I smiled back at Stark and held out my hand.

"I'm Emily, it's nice to meet you Mr. Stark" I said. Stark grimaced.

"You don't have to put the mister on; we're all friends here I hope" he said, shaking my hand. I giggled.

"Sure thing. Can I call you by your first name?" I said. Stark nodded.

"Thanks, Tony. I hope we're all friends here as well. We're all in the same boat, so we might as well get along" I said, grinning. Stark smiled back and nodded.

--

A/N: I know this chapter is a little long, but I just couldn't find a good place to stop. Anyway, I hope you all liked it, and if you did please use the lovely purple box at the bottom of the page to tell me what you thought. Thanks!

Cheers!

•midgetmania•