mya
Midnight Rambler
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2001
- Posts
- 1,681
OOC-Feel free to drag me in if you are interested in my joining your Ship Wreck Adventure…otherwise, just let me drift by if you’d rather not. Either way I’ll have fun!!!
Sandi-IC-
Clutching my seat cushion tight, the yellow plastic inflatable life preserver chaffing at my neck line as I drift in the ocean’s current, frightened, cold, desperate and alone. I find myself alternately praying to the gods to let me live to see my family again, then praying that I’ll die sooner than later. The warm salt water of the ocean drying my skin and stinging in the gash on the back of my head. The straps of my bra rubbing raw against my skin with the help of the salt water. The hot sun high in the sky burning my bare arms and the top of my head. The glistening water making it impossible to see anything. No one else is near me.
I drift along in the water as thoughts and snippets of memories I wish I could forget flash through my mind. I remember my excitement at winning a trip to a tropical paradise from the local radio station. I wasn’t even trying to win, somehow I just miss-dialed the office on my cell phone. The DJ had a good laugh and told me I must be the luckiest person in the world. Yeah some luck I think…surviving, just barely, a plane crash. Suddenly the image of my 3 older sisters teasing banter plays through my head…"Woohoo Sandi. I hope you get even luckier (wink wink) on your holiday." And "be sure to tell us all the details, you know how exciting your single life can be to us old married gals!" And "we’ll be checking for tan lines…to see if you spend all your time on the nude beach". "If we just had your youth and looks, we’d be spending our time on a nude beach picking up men too!" And my sisters thought they were soooooooooooo funny. I am the youngest sister at 28, 5’8" tall, curvaceous, with blonde long hair and blue eyes and a fair complexion. My sisters liked to tease me that I was the milkman’s daughter because I look nothing like them. For all they good natured teasing, I love them to death.
Suddenly I see the flight attendant’s white face as she is talking into the mike…please put your life jackets on, and pull the cord. Then place your head between your legs and hold tight. Do not panic. We are in control. … The seat cushion is a flotation device…prepare to calmly exit the plane upon landing…I can’t remember the landing or how I got out of the plane. I only remember clutching my seat cushion tight…maybe the last two seats in the plane really are the safest I think.
My mind slips back to the present…God I’m thirsty…oh God I’m gonna die…a lone tear rolls down my cheek to meet the salty ocean. I wonder if there are sharks here…oh god. Forget the sharks think about something else I tell myself. My head hurts…my skin is crawling, my arms are exhausted. Where is everyone else?…Am I the only one alive?…my mind won’t stop thinking as I drift in the ocean current. A few pieces of debris float in the water following the same current I’m floating in. A brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt floats in the water a couple hundred yards away, obviously lost by one of the passengers and I struggle to kick my tired legs to swim towards it, finally managing to move close enough to snag it with my fingers. I drape it over my head and arms, providing a small amount of relief from the sun. I close my eyes, and rest my weary body. Where will I end up? Will I find land somewhere? Will a boat find me? Surely rescuers are looking for the plane, aren’t they?
Sandi-IC-
Clutching my seat cushion tight, the yellow plastic inflatable life preserver chaffing at my neck line as I drift in the ocean’s current, frightened, cold, desperate and alone. I find myself alternately praying to the gods to let me live to see my family again, then praying that I’ll die sooner than later. The warm salt water of the ocean drying my skin and stinging in the gash on the back of my head. The straps of my bra rubbing raw against my skin with the help of the salt water. The hot sun high in the sky burning my bare arms and the top of my head. The glistening water making it impossible to see anything. No one else is near me.
I drift along in the water as thoughts and snippets of memories I wish I could forget flash through my mind. I remember my excitement at winning a trip to a tropical paradise from the local radio station. I wasn’t even trying to win, somehow I just miss-dialed the office on my cell phone. The DJ had a good laugh and told me I must be the luckiest person in the world. Yeah some luck I think…surviving, just barely, a plane crash. Suddenly the image of my 3 older sisters teasing banter plays through my head…"Woohoo Sandi. I hope you get even luckier (wink wink) on your holiday." And "be sure to tell us all the details, you know how exciting your single life can be to us old married gals!" And "we’ll be checking for tan lines…to see if you spend all your time on the nude beach". "If we just had your youth and looks, we’d be spending our time on a nude beach picking up men too!" And my sisters thought they were soooooooooooo funny. I am the youngest sister at 28, 5’8" tall, curvaceous, with blonde long hair and blue eyes and a fair complexion. My sisters liked to tease me that I was the milkman’s daughter because I look nothing like them. For all they good natured teasing, I love them to death.
Suddenly I see the flight attendant’s white face as she is talking into the mike…please put your life jackets on, and pull the cord. Then place your head between your legs and hold tight. Do not panic. We are in control. … The seat cushion is a flotation device…prepare to calmly exit the plane upon landing…I can’t remember the landing or how I got out of the plane. I only remember clutching my seat cushion tight…maybe the last two seats in the plane really are the safest I think.
My mind slips back to the present…God I’m thirsty…oh God I’m gonna die…a lone tear rolls down my cheek to meet the salty ocean. I wonder if there are sharks here…oh god. Forget the sharks think about something else I tell myself. My head hurts…my skin is crawling, my arms are exhausted. Where is everyone else?…Am I the only one alive?…my mind won’t stop thinking as I drift in the ocean current. A few pieces of debris float in the water following the same current I’m floating in. A brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt floats in the water a couple hundred yards away, obviously lost by one of the passengers and I struggle to kick my tired legs to swim towards it, finally managing to move close enough to snag it with my fingers. I drape it over my head and arms, providing a small amount of relief from the sun. I close my eyes, and rest my weary body. Where will I end up? Will I find land somewhere? Will a boat find me? Surely rescuers are looking for the plane, aren’t they?
