• Abnormal Island
    I had finished flight school about a week ago. To be honest, I had not had any trouble with flying the plane. It was the safety precautions that I struggled with. I just couldn’t seem to grasp the whole idea, but sooner or later things made since. While I was studying at flight school I made a few friends, but one of the few friends seemed strange and quiet; as if he were hiding something. I pulled him aside after class and interrogated him. He said that confessing wasn’t necessary, but strangely he confessed anyways. He spoke of some strange underground airport. I didn’t believe him until weeks after I got my diploma.
    As I checked my mailbox, like usual, I found a letter from Dolton Airport. (An airport I’d never heard of.) They had sent me a letter asking that I work there as a pilot. Confused; I called the airport questioning staff. The woman on the line seemed to be panicking, which, of course, made me nervous. When I asked why they had chosen me, she said that there had been some disappearances of the other pilots. When I began to question, she interrupted and said she had someone else on the line.
    Things were chaotic in my personal life. My parents were in court getting a divorce because my dad had forgotten my mom’s birthday, their anniversary, and he had dumped my grandmother’s ashes in the trash can by mistake. My mother refuses to speak to my dad unless in court. My ex-boyfriend; the guy I believed was the one, was hooking up with one of my close friends from high school…some friend. If that wasn’t enough to get me stressed out, then today’s flight was.
    I was taking 46 passengers to Hawaii. A majority of the passengers were vacationing. The rest were either moving or working. That made me nervous. Plus, the plane was huge. I’d never flown a plane full of passengers.
    “Pilot,” the pilot assistant called, “The passengers are ready for lift off. Are you ready?”
    I responded, “You can call me Rennet. May I ask what your name is?”
    “Bruce,” he answered as he swung his hand at a fly. “Well? Are you ready for lift off?” Bruce questioned.
    I responded somewhat nervously, “Uh…yes.”
    I placed the plane’s key in the ignition and revved the engine; all seemed well. I then made an announcement through the intercom for the first timers. I drove the plane through the take off maze; which never was fun. Then, it was my turn to fly off the ramp. I fastened my seat belt and made the speed accelerate. This was my favorite part in flight school; the lift off. As the plane tilted up, my heart started to race. Soon we were flying through the clouds and the flight attendants were passing out soda and what not.
    For about an hour everything was at ease until Bruce and I heard a scream. Not a scream of joy, a scream of pain. Bruce immediately unfastened his seat belt and went to the scene. I stared out the plane window and wondered what the issue could be. Perhaps an elder dying, someone having a seizure, I had no clue. My thoughts were then interrupted.
    “There is a woman in labor! We need your permission to move her to the backroom,” Bruce informed.
    “Yes, move her. We wouldn’t want the passengers upset or disturbed,” I answered.
    Bruce was already out the door when he said, “Thanks.”
    I knew I had to help some how, so I made an announcement, “If there are any certified doctors on the plane, can you please report to the backroom. We are experiencing some difficulties. That is all.”
    Minutes passed and the screaming randomly stopped and I heard soft whispers.
    Bruce stormed in, sat in his seat, then turned toward me.
    “Pilot Rennet,” Bruce spoke quietly, “The child seems fine, but as for the mother…well, she’s dead. A heavy suitcase fell on her and we couldn’t get it off in time. Her lungs were crushed.”
    I didn’t respond right away, “Is the child’s father on board?”
    Bruce didn’t hesitate, “Yes, after the doctor is finished cleaning the baby, cutting off the umbilical cord, and simply checking to see if she’s fine the father gets the child.”
    “Well, I think we should phone the airport and inform them of the incident,” I stated.
    “Yes, that would be very necessary. In fact, I’ll phone them right now,” Bruce said as he left the room.
    I tried to hold back the tears in my eyes, knowing I wouldn’t be able to. I didn’t want Bruce to see me, for I was a girl and image was everything. I wiped the tears off my cheeks with my sleeve. Bruce then entered the room again.
    “Well? What they say?” I asked.
    “They want us to finish the flight and then come back. They will then give us our small paychecks and fire us,” Bruce said almost as if he cared.
    “This sucks! I don’t know if I’ll be able to find another job,” I yelled.
    “Well, you do have your degree, so you should be fine,” he stated.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “Well, my brother died and it was a terrible loss that I couldn’t bare. My parents told me to just quit flight school and go to therapy or something, but I refused. Then my father told the flight school that I was on drugs and refused to stop. They immediately kicked me out of flight school and I was forced to live in an apartment. My girlfriend became furious because she believed my dad and not me. She said it would be best if we saw other people. I tried to explain to her what had really happened, but she refused to listen. When I heard about this airport being desperate for pilots, I made a fake degree and applied. I didn’t think they would accept me, but they did. They said they knew I wasn’t really a certified pilot and they didn’t care. When I asked why they wouldn’t answer.” Bruce explained.
    “Oh, I understand now. You know, I tried asking why they were low on pilots too, but they didn’t answer,” I replied.
    “That’s strange…it almost seems as if they’re hiding something, but what would they need to hide?” Bruce questioned.
    “I’m not sure, but-” Bruce then interrupted me.
    “Hey, did you notice the “check engine” light flickering?” Bruce questioned.
    “Actually no, but did you notice the lights flickering?” I interrogated.
    “No, this is very peculiar. I think we should stop at the nearest airport and have them check the plane,” Bruce stated.
    “Good plan,” I said as I checked the radar, “I hope you realize that the nearest airport is an hour and a half away. At the moment we’re hovering the sea.”
    Suddenly, the lights shut off and the power shut off moments afterwards. The plane started to tilt and fall at rocket speed. I tried to steer the plane back on course, but couldn’t steer. I even tried putting the plane on auto pilot, but that didn’t work either. I tried to stand so I could move to the back, but lost my balance and fell.
    Bruce and I crawled into the aisle and got hit by flying luggage. It was painful, yet worth it. We then crawled into the backroom with the dead passenger and all of the luggage. Bruce reached out for me and pulled me by his side. He mumbled something in my ear that sounded like I love you. I was awed, confused, and most importantly frightened.
    Then I felt the impact. Bruce and I were immediately thrown against the side of the plane. Pain shot through my right side. I was then hit by a huge suitcase and became unconscious…
    *****************************************************************************************************
    When I awoke everything was a blur. I could hear Bruce trying to get contact on the radio. “Hello? Help! Uh…we, ur…I need help,” Bruce paused and changed the station, “Hello? Help! You’ve got to help me!” He continued searching through the stations.
    I wanted to tell him I was alive, but couldn’t move my lips. It was soon obvious that he had moved me back to my seat. My head was burning, but I couldn’t see why.
    I assumed Bruce had given up, because he approached me, and kneeled at my side. He was crying, but why? Did he really love me or did he just feel sorry for me? I had to speak now or never.
    “Bruce, I’m o.k. Please_,” I choked and rubbed the tears off my cheeks, “Please stop crying. I’m o.k.”
    He lifted his head up and grabbed hold of me and hugged me in his arms. “Don’t leave me ever again. Got it?” he questioned seriously.
    “Got it,” I echoed.
    “When I said I loved you, I meant it. I wasn’t just saying it because you were going to die, I meant it. I love you,” he informed sweetly.
    I wanted to tell him that I didn’t love him back, but that wasn’t appropriate at a time like this, so instead I asked, “Where are we?”
    Bruce’s smile faded, “I’m not sure, but I think we might be on an uncharted island.”
    At that moment something started clawing the window. I turned my head toward the window and became in full alert of my surroundings. My breathing slowed and my heart rate accelerated. It was absolutely silent inside the plane, but outside the plane we heard strange noises. First, a heavy stomping noise that seemed to get louder, then the clawing sound ceasing. We then heard a squeal, followed by a crunching noise, almost similar to the sound of twigs snapping in half, except louder. The stomping noise had returned, and slowly faded.
    “What was that?!” I whispered.
    “I was hoping you would know,” Bruce answered.
    I panicked and decided leaving the island would be appropriate, so I adjusted the seat and steering wheel preparing to fly the plane out of this place.
    “What are you doing?!” Bruce asked in a confused manor.
    “Starting the plane, we’ve got to get out of here! If we don’t leave we’ll be that thing’s snack! I don’t know about you, but I would like to live!” the tears of fear rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them off.
    “Stop! If you start the plane, the things may come back and plus, you can’t steer a plane with that kind of injury!” Bruce pointed to my head.
    “What injury?” I practically screamed.
    “The one on your head! A really heavy suitcase landed on you, and the zipper jabbed a hole in your skull,” Bruce informed.
    I stopped and fixed my gaze on him. “Then what else are we to do? Die?” I asked softly.
    “Wait for rescue,” he answered.
    “Oh wow! That sounds like a brilliant idea! Those years with starvation and dehydration will just breeze by!” I said sarcastically.
    “Listen. We need to think of a plan that will work. I think we should stay here until we have a thorough plan.” Bruce said in a heroic manor.
    “I’m only agreeing with you because I don’t have any ideas of escape,” I said.
    “Well, that works with me.” Bruce said as he leaned back in his chair.
    As days passed, we ran out of food and became really bored. I had actually thought about sneaking out of the plane, for three reasons. One, we would run out of food eventually no matter how hard we tried to prevent it. Two, no body liked being bored and I’m sure I’d be more entertained outside of the plane. Third, I had to get away from Bruce. I had heard him practicing a proposal and I didn’t want to break his heart. I guess you could say it was obvious that I needed to get off the plane.
    Bruce had been sleeping for about an hour, so he shouldn’t wake up. I quickly gathered essentials and a small machete stored in a suitcase. I decided to leave a note for Bruce, so he wouldn’t freak out and think I was dead. The note read: Bruce, I’m going to the shore. Once there, I will build a raft and leave this dreaded island. Please don’t come find me, I will be fine. Sincerely, Rennet. P.S. Good Luck. I was ready to leave. Sneaking out wasn’t easy. I couldn’t get the door open at first, and when I did get it open, it squeaked.
    I ran until the plane was out of sight, then, I set up camp. I had no clue how long it was going to take to get to the shore. My shelter wasn’t great, but it would work. I reached in my bag for some food and found nothing but a hole the size of a baseball. No food. Survival could be hard without food, so, like any survivalist I left camp in search of food.
    I was simply looking for fruit, vegetables, or fish. I wasn’t looking for bugs because a lot of them are poisonous and eating one could be fatal. I then smelled a musty rot. Which never was a good sign, but now, it might be a sign of good luck. I’ve always been curious and I’m sure curiosity will kill me someday, but hopefully not today. I followed the scent to the scene where it was being produced. There right before me lay a dead dinosaur with fresh bite marks from, obviously a bigger dinosaur. I was no dinosaur expert, but it was obvious that this dinosaur was a pterodactyl.
    I couldn’t remember them being fatal when eaten, so I ripped a chunk of meat off the dinosaur and took it back to my camp. I had a good fire going and decided to cook the meat. It didn’t taste bad…it was something I could get used to and learn to love. Although, staying at this location wouldn’t be safe. Especially with fresh meat about a mile away, that would attract other dinosaurs. I would have to pack up camp in the morning, and get as far as I can.
    Sleeping was difficult. I must have been lying on an ant bed, not just any ant bed; a fire ant bed. I was bitten endlessly. Others would have laughed and said it was just a couple ants. I disagree, there were several ants. I couldn’t sleep on an ant bed, so I moved somewhere else. I still couldn’t sleep, not for the same reason, but because the ground was moist and hard. I needed rest. Otherwise, hiking would be very difficult. After what seemed to be hours, I finally fell fast asleep.
    I awoke to the sound of heavy breathing and whispering. This infuriated me. It was more than likely Bruce following me even though I had told him not to. The breathing seemed close, too close. I swung my hand around me and hit someone. It was obviously not Bruce because this person had a braided beard, but who could it be? I opened my eyes to find several men, woman, and children; Native Americans. I was terrified.
    The man with the braided beard grabbed my arm and tugged. He obviously wanted me to follow, but I was frozen in my footsteps and couldn’t move. He then yelled something at his tribe, and the women and children sprinted through the trees; and were soon out of the sight. Several men then crowded me, and one of them carried me, as others formed a circular formation around the man and I.
    It didn’t take long for the men to take me to their home, which I had to admit; they seemed to be in a brilliant spot for living. The man tossed me into one of the many mud and straw houses and guarded at the door. I glanced around to find the man with the braided beard who didn’t appear happy.
    The man with the braided beard approached me and sniffed my hair like an animal would sniff something new. What did this Native American tribe want with me? How could I be any help to them? Perhaps, they were planning to use me for bate or something. Either way, it probably wasn’t going to end delightful. The man with the braided beard appeared to be calling the man guarding the door. The man at the door ran in and stood attentively as the man with the braided beard spoke calmly; occasionally the man with the braided beard would give hand signals like pointing, but I still didn’t understand a word this tribe said.
    The man who had been guarding the door then grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door, and continued dragging me until we reached a lake. The lake was surrounded by the men, woman and children. They were playing hand-made instruments and dancing. I continued to look around so I could see what they were planning to do with me.
    Then, I saw it. I gasped and dropped to my knees refusing to stand or move. There on a tree limb hovering the lake was a rope. They were planning to hang me. What they planned to do with me after I was dead remained a mystery. I began to try to runaway, but that didn’t work, for the man simply hit me in the head with a rock and I became unconscious.
    ***************************************************************************************************************************
    When I awoke I was hanging upside down hovering the water. I was nauseas and wanted to puke. The women and children appeared to be dancing with joy as the men crowded around the lake with spears. Were they planning to use me for target practice? Then, out of the water emerged what appeared to be a mermaid.
    This mermaid didn’t appear friendly like others of her kind in fairytales. Strangely, she appeared as if she were trying to grab me. I struggled to reach my feet with my hands; trying to hoist myself back up into the tree. Then out of nowhere, appeared a man. The man began slamming a stick on my hands. I released my grip and fell back to the same position I had to began with.
    As the mermaid continued jumping out of the water, I tried to create an escape. As I put the clues together, I realized there wasn’t an escape. I was surrounded, and unprepared for death. How would the mermaid kill me? Simply drown me?
    I then began screaming for someone or something had grabbed hold of me while swinging on a vine. Curiosity then took over as I looked up. It definitely wasn’t Bruce, but it wasn’t an animal…it was a person. “Just great,” I thought, “I’m being kidnapped by more Native Americans.”
    As this man swung from vine to vine throughout the forest, I saw dinosaurs below me. They appeared so peaceful, but when they saw me dangling on a vine they tried to bite me, perhaps craving a snack.
    To me it was peculiar of this man to continuously swing from vine to vine. By sunset, he had taken me across the forest in the opposite direction of shore. He finally stopped and released me when we had reached what appeared to be a building. This confused me, for anyone living out here would never of had the time to build a building as marvelous as the one before me. They would have been eaten or killed.