• I was flying over the Atlantic, feeling free, free from the troubles that I had been threw in life. I had decided to take this trip to get away from it all, to live like I were meant to live. The intercom came on, and I was surprised to hear not the name of the pilot, but of a gruff, and seemingly angry man.
    "Pilots are dead, anyone that tries to stop us are gonna die too." He barked, and in the background, a teenager starts to sob. My body is shaking, and I feel tears streaming down my face. Looking around, I saw people hugging others, holding on for dear life. Others were on their knees...praying, praying that they'd be alright.
    Then, out of nowhere, I hear a gunshot, and standing in the aisle is a large, muscular man, his face twisted into a scowl. I hear the thud as a body fell to the floor. He killed someone just now, the obvious truth shot across my brain. The thug's eyes locks gazes with each of the passengers for a moment, and then suddenly, he topples backwards. I was falling...falling to the earth below. I kept thinking that I was going to land in the ocean and drown a terrible death...
    Then, the plane hit something hard; we had all landed on an island. A scream presses out from inbetween my lips as I fall from my seat and bang against the one in front of me, then crumple to the ground in an unnatural position. Screams of pain came from every direction, and I see the group of rebels jumping out the door, luck that they are not badly harmed.
    There are only seven survivors out of the twenty that were on the flight, and we all fear for our lives now.


    I was the first one out, panting, clutching onto my right leg, that had a deep gash in my thigh, and my arm, that was bleeding without remorse. "Doctor..." I croaked, falling down on the beach. "Is anyone here a doctor?"
    A young man, probably my age, stepped forward, his abdomen bleeding but he didn't seem to care. "I'm a doctor." He said gruffly, bending down beside me and pulling me into his lap. Heat radiated off of him, and I shivered, realizing then that my body was already cold...
    "What's your name?" He asked calmly, taking out some materials from a medical kit I hadn't realized he had.
    "Zoey," I said sharply as a pain ran up my arm as he tried to disinfect my arm. "Zoey Burkes."
    "Nice to meet you Zoey," He said with a light chuckle, quickly bandaging me up. "I'm Thomas Venn." He was done with me, and got up and quickly started on a older lady, who was unconscious and bleeding from her head. I wobbled to my feet and made my way to a middle-aged man who seemed unharmed, except for the way he was clutching his elbow. It was probably broken.
    "Where did those rebels go?" I hissed, brown eyes swiveling towards the thick jungle that surrounded us.
    "Who knows," He sighed and leaned against a small palm tree. "All I know is that they probably aren’t done killing people."
    "You think they'll come for us?" I winced, clutching onto my sore arm fearfully.
    "Yup...but let's not worry about that now. I'm Gregory Young, and I overheard that you were Zoey Burkes?"
    "Correct," I sight and glanced over to Thomas, who was already on another victim, a teenage boy. "Isn't he amazing?"
    "He sure is, we should be thankful that we had a doctor on board. But I'm surprised, he is so young, and probably more talented then me."
    "Yeah..." I murmured lightly. "I'm going to go see him. Incase he needs help." I said quickly, and scuttled over to Thomas, placing a hand on his shoulder. He had moved away from the elder, and was sitting right near the water, hugging his knees to his chest.
    "Did you help that lady?" I whispered into his ear, going down on my knees. At that moment, I felt his whole body harden.
    "No," He said thickly, hanging his head while the teenager moaned in pain. "She was dead."
    I felt tears sting my eyes, another person, loosing their life because of those assholes that tried to jack the plane."I'm so sorry," I said shakily and looked towards him.
    "Don't cry," He murmured when he looked up at me, and brushed a few strands of brown hair from out of my eyes. "I'm sure she lived a wonderful life, all we can do it keep the rest of us safe." His soft was soft, and I felt my stomach flop when his hand brushed against my skin. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck, and just talk about each other. But a scream disturbed my peace.
    "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" It was the screams of a teenage girl, who looked no more then fifteen, with long, blonde hair with black streaks here and there. She was clutching onto her head, and blood stained the sand where she fell.