The Flight

• Bridget Rankine, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2012

I wake, to find myself in an ugly blue seat in an old worn airplane. It doesn’t take me long to remember my grade is going on camp. My friend soon wakes and looks towards the back of the plane.
“Fire!” he shouts jumping out of his seat.
The other students and staff stare out the window and immediately start screaming. I try to think but my body is shaking like an earthquake. I notice a man with a grey beard with a lighter in his pocket, smirking. I can’t worry about that now though, I have to act fast. I grasp my two friends with sweating hands and drag them with me to the emergency exit.
“What are you doing Mae?” Joey yells, confused. I don’t reply. Before I can change my mind I kick open the door and we plunge out of the plane.
The freezing air whips my face and the speed we were falling stops me from breathing. I realise we are only metres away from landing in the ocean. Cold water hits my skin. I brake my grip on my friends. I pull myself up towards the surface of the water, I gasp for breath and open my eyes to see a parade of palm trees a short distance away. I search for my friends. They appear right beside me and together we let out a sigh of relief. We make our way through the water and onto the island.
" I wonder where the plane landed?" I say.
" It was coming in the direction of this island," Sophia replies.
" Probably landed on the other side."
“Then what are we waiting for?" asks Joey
"Lets go find it."
We walk for about half an hour until we come to a wall of vines. I push through them, I see it. The old plane we were on just forty minutes ago. We try to look in but it's too foggy. I guess we were luckier than the others.
I can hardly sleep for the noise of our roaring stomachs and the thought that I may never go home again.
“As there is no way of living on this small and food-less island there is only one thing we can do. Sail to safety. We go back to the plane and find some useful resources. A few palm tree’s that have fallen down are used for a base and some rope from the plane to tie them up. We set sail to the rough sea just praying we will make it out alive. The sun begins to sink once again and with it, our hopes. I peer out into the distance and I see something. My hope rises. A boat! We start signalling out to it, screaming for help.
A man with a grey beard in the boat notices us and comes to our rescue. As we climb in I notice something about him, something familiar. I've seen that lighter before!