"There are others, who make us give them chase."
"When our wills and heart follow the same pace."
They said i had to be thankful, that it was a true miracle. They said they had taken me for dead. I'm called to talk about my experience. To talk about how it was. They want to know what happened. But i can't tell them...
I tell them how the engines failed. I tell them how my heart went overdrive when the shaking voice of the pilot was heard through the speakers. I talk about the uneasyness of the stewardesses, the fear in their eyes as they tried to smile and calm us. I talk about the first hit in the stomach as the plane pivots straight downward. I talk about the sensation of freefalling, while still attached to a metal frame. I talk about watching fire, the plane breaking apart as it accelerated straight down. I talk about the second hit, when we hit water, the bone breaking pressure in your guts. I talk about taking my seat belt off with determination and steady hands, swimming to the back of the plane and then out. I talk about the muffled cries of the others as they sunk with the metal carcass.
Then...i talk about the sun, about being the only one in the vast blue sea. I talk about being drifted away by floating suitcases....bodies also flowing with me. And the island. I talk about the island...about surviving on the island, life on the island, living on the island. It was a dull story...ending happily with me being found by a passing cruise ship. That is what i tell...instead...
I wish to tell them about the others. About the others who survived...who made it onto the island. I want to talk about their lives...and names. I can still remember them. Clear as day. I wish to talk about what happened to them, their last moments, what i did, how they tasted. I wish to tell them about the sweetness...and the saltyness. About the thrill, the excitement, the hunger...and the madness. I wish to tell them about our game...and how i won. I lived.
But no...i must not tell them. I must be a good man...and smile...and tell the story of survival. But...i'm already missing them...their sweetness, their saltyness.
"And I agree."
"Patience, he will soon come to we."