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Mischievous
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« on: January 30, 2011, 11:33:34 AM » |
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Day 1
I have no idea how long I have been here, or just how long the plane has been crashed here. My sense of direction is out of sync because I cannot see the sun through the dense forest brush. I’m not sure of the date because I don’t know if I slept through the night, or if I woke up shortly after being thrown from the cabin and rolled down a gently-sloped ravine. I was awoken by the blasting hum of a woodpecker, pecking a precarious hole into one of the large oak trees that surround me.
Shortly after waking up today, I limped my way up to the top of the ravine, which was a difficult task because of my fatigued and injured state, and laid my eyes upon the catastrophically mangled, mechanical limbs of the plane. Luggage was thrown about the small area and the air smelt of a vile mixture of blood and oil. I searched the inside of the remains of the plane and found very little that wasn’t broken or was of any use. In the captains closet, I found three flare guns, which I used one of them to start a fire. In the lower sections of the plane, I found some life rafts, in which I could use the rubber to form a water proof shelter. Among the wreckage, I found the tattered and lacerated corpses of most of the passengers; the rest were either laying outside of the plane, or vanished without a trace. I know for one thing, I will not have to worry about clothing; there was an abundance of it in side the luggage. I need not to forget that I could also use the cloth for shelter and medical reasons.
I cannot get an acute assessment of my extensive injuries, but it isn’t bad to hazard a guess. I think my ankle is either broken or sprained. I feel sharp pain whenever I put too much weight on it. I know that I have some sort of gash or abrasion on my forehead, or in that general area, because I often feel blood dripping down my face. It doesn’t hurt at the moment, but I fear it will become infected. I dumped some alcohol on it earlier today to disinfect it, and placed a make shift tourniquet out of a sock to try to stop the bleeding. Other then the injuries described nothing more then just a few bumps and scrapes, fatigue and soreness, and little whiplash.
I also would like to add that I will not be alone here. Among the wreckage of the plane I found a young woman named Ophelia. I could here sob inside, and quickly came to rescue her. She cannot walk, because I feel as if her legs are broken. She is in a rough mental state. She is overwhelmed by shock and is constantly crying. I feel her pain, but I have to stay strong if either of us wants to survive. She has deep gashes in her arms that bleeding profusely. I feel as if I don’t do something about her injuries, she could die.
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