Emily+F

Emily F

__** Second Chance **__ **//English 10 Novella//** March 3, 13 Emily Fox ** LOWER: Chapter 1 **

I settle down on the board-like chair with resistance, holding my breath so I don’t cry out in pain. The thing I dread most of all when flying, the airplane seats. I would kill to have a five star chair on my nine hour flight back home to Vancouver. Trying to make myself as comfortable as possible, I take out my tattered pillow. On its case is a picture of the Disney characters Minnie and Mickey Mouse; babyish I know, but I have had it for 17 years, since the age of four. My parents gave it to me on my birthday.  “A girl affording a plane ride from Australia to Canada can’t afford a new pillow?” Surprised, I jerk my head up. Beside me is a young man, fair skinned, clothed in business attire. I then gaze down at my pillow, noticing its holes and faded cartoon characters.  “I’ve had it since I was a kid,” whispering, I looking out the window. I feel my shoulders rise and my chin burrow in my neck.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, just making small talk,” the man replies, staring down at his cell phone. I catch a glimpse of him; he has sharp, deep facial features, and a dense body. He catches me looking at him.  “Cool phone, right?” the man smiles at me. “The new IPhone 5, water-proof case, hot off the market. Sadly, it is not mine. I bought it for my brother. He is meeting me at the airport”.  I nod my head and smirk, not sure what to say back.  “Who are you meeting in Vancouver?”  “My parents,” I remark nervously. “It was my first trip without them.” // God, how more babyish could I sound? //  Frantically, I around the plane, trying to find something to look at other than this guy’s face. I stare into the dull, shallow ceiling, gaze at the dull, cream walls, and at the dull television screens.  “Why are you so tense?” The man asks while shifting away, alienating me.  “I’m a dancer, and I put my back out yesterday at an audition,” Finally, I reply with ease. I am only comfortable when a topic is about my passion.  “Do you want an Advil or something?” he asks me.  “No, I’m good thanks. I can tough it out”.  “Oh, I see, you’re a fighter-type girl, aren’t you?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Um, I guess so…” I blush, sneaking a smile. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “In case of emergency-“ the flight attendant drones. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I rest my head on the wall of the plane. I turn my head towards the business man, who is mimicking the flight attendant using elaborate hand gestures. Evidently, I can’t help but laugh. The woman hears me; she catches the man making fun of her. Therefore, he turns beat red, and holds his head in disbelief. I fiercely cover my mouth with hand, letting my eyes do the talking. The attendant continues her bland speech, now beginning to shutter. As soon as she finishes her speech, the jet engines roar. We descend down the runway, taking lift off. I finally drift into a long, needed sleep. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Um, Miss,” I jump up, startled. Consequently, I grab my back in pain. “Sorry to disturb you, but here’s your meal.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> The flight attendant plops the plastic, suspicious meal on my tray, presenting no sense of enthusiasm. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Oh, thank you,” I answer half asleep. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I then recognize her from earlier this evening. She then throws the business man’s food on his tray, not making eye contact. I begin to eat my flavorless meal, only because I am famished. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">If only I they could serve better food on this luxurious airplane. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> In addition, the plane abruptly throws us to one side, my head bashing against the window. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Attention ladies and-“ <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Another hard throw to the right side of the aircraft. People begin to panic, shouting at the shocked flight attendants. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Dear God, what is happening? // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “I better put my brother’s phone away, he would kill me if something happened to it,” the business man suggests, half laughing. “I forgot to ask you, what’s your name?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Oh, I’m Emily, what about yourself?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “I’m-“ <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> The plane jerks to a halt, I then feel us descend: Lower… lower… and lower. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Prepare for impact! Prepare!” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I throw my head between my knees, and hold onto the man’s hand beside me. People’s screams are deafening, if only they would stop. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Oh dear Lord, I don’t want to die! Please, save me! I need to get back home! I need to go home! // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">I feel the plane plunge into the Pacific-cold water. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Why can’t I hear any more screaming? // //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Where is all the screaming? // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Next, I feel my friend’s grip slip away. I look over at the man, who is hanging like a rag doll, still buckled in his seat. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Wake up,” I order the passenger. “Wake up, come on, wake up!” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I scream in frustration: “Wake up NOW! You need to see your brother again! I need to see my parents! Please, wake up! Oh Lord, I don’t even know your first name.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Grabbing the phone from his pocket, I put it into mine. I then begin it feel the ice-cold water circling my ankles. I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, alone. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Hey you! Come this way!” I hear a high-pitched voice scream down the aisle. “We have a floatable thing, help us!” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I dash down the aisle as fast as I can, tripping over suitcases and other unknowns. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 0px; overflow: hidden;">

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I meet up with two men and one woman. I search for more people, finding them all unconscious. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “We are the only ones left,” one of the men tells me, reading my mind. “Hurry, or else we won’t get out alive either.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> The other young man throws the plane doors open, letting the forceful wind push us against the bathroom door. The first man’s eyebrow is now covered brick red, and is flooding down the rest of his snow-white skin. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> We all leap into the massive ocean, knowing it’s our only chance. I miscalculate and fall into the darkness below. I gasp for air, and search for the life raft. It is 30ft. south of me. Trying it stay calm in the most horrifying event known to man, I swim for my life. I swim for my parents. I swim.

** GROUNDED: Chapter 2 **

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Hello? Are you evening listening to me? It’s like I am speaking to a wall sometimes.” //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Who does Kiera think I am? I just swam for my life to a no-man’s land one week ago, since I was involved in a fatal plane crash. How does she expect me to be excited planning on how to stay on this tropical Hell? // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Oh, she’s listening to you Kiera, she just has the self-respect not to answer you,” Zach speaks for me. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kiera rolls her eyes: “I’m just trying to figure out how we can stay on this island alive.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Not wanting to answer her, I decide to take a walk along the beach. I stare back at the tropical land, and do not see much. Tall, bare palm trees, skimpy berry bushes, limp grass and rocky sand. That is all there is on this bloody island. And rats, filthy, devious rats. I cannot imagine us being able to live off this land for another week. As I am walking along the beach, I gaze out at sea. The luxurious, deep blue waves tumble in the water. Its colour changes into an angelic white, as it crashes along the beach. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Hey Emily,” Kenton shouts, knee-deep in the ocean, “Want to help me catch some crab?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I waltz into the water, not realizing how cold it was. I look out at Kenton, who is chuckling at me. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Oh Lord, he must have seen my expression stepping into the cold. He must think I am such a wimp. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">With all the dignity I have left, I stride towards Kenton. He hands me a wooden spear, telling me I will get used to the temperature. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “It’s going to be dusk soon, so hunt fast.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I watch as Kenton whips his spear into the water, catching two fish at once. He smiles, satisfied with his catch. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 0px; overflow: hidden;"> <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Man, I could stay here the rest of my life.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Really?” I question. “Don’t you have anyone back home? Family? Friends?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Not answering, Kenton slowly packs up his fish and heads back to camp. I watch him leave, then follow after him. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Have you started the fire yet?” Kiera whines. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Trust me, you will see it when it starts,” Zach snips back. “Kenton, would you mind helping me for a change?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kenton slips out of our shelter, and mumbles over to Zach. At this point, all I can do is I lay down on the bamboo planks, praying that rats will not visit us tonight. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Two minutes later, Kenton lights the fire, no problem. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Wow, do you start fires often?” Zach wonders. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Yep, every night” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Every night? What for?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Kenton does not answer, and files back into the shelter, pretending to fall asleep. Zach joins us, and begins to snore. I stare into the fire, watching the flames dance. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">How can people sleep in a crisis like this? It is like these people aren’t even trying to be rescued. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Zach talks in his sleep, something about a wife. A tear drips down my sweat-stained face. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Don’t fret Emily,” Kiera whispers to me. “We are going to be found. It will all be over soon.”

** CLOSER: Chapter 3 **

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Wake up! Come on guys! Zach has a plan!” Kiera shrieks. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Kenton, Emily, wake up. We are all going on a hike today,” Zach orders. “We are going to see what this island has to offer. Hopefully it has more than just berries and coconuts.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “I was planning on fishing today,” Kenton mumbles. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Nope, not today,” Zach says. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kenton rolls his eyes and crawls out of bed. I start to lace up my tattered shoes. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “You guys can go on your hike; I’m going to fish.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “No, you are coming with us, Kenton,” Zach’s tone becomes higher. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Man, don’t act like you are the boss of me. I’ll do what I please,” Kenton tells. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I start to sweat. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">For once, can we please have a fight-free day? //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Kiera starts shifting nervously, biting at her blonde hair. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I feel I should say something to Kenton. I feel it is my responsibility to try to make him come with us. I feel involved in this dispute. I feel… scared. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Um, Kenton,” Kiera speaks up, “please come. I would feel safer if we had you along.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kenton looks out at sea. “I guess I’ll come, but not for this jerk,” pointing towards Zach. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Whatever, let’s just go,” Zach yells. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I finally can breathe again. The only thing that is worse than being stuck on a deserted island, is having confrontation on a deserted island. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Alrighty guys, I think we should have a break now,” Zach pants, falling to his knees. “How about ten minutes, then we meet back here?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> We have only hiked for about half a mile, and Zach is already out of breath. The rest of us exchange glances, all feeling sorry for Zach. We all head off on our own, getting some time away from each other. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Eventually, I head over to a grassy hill and climb to its peak. I squat down on a log, taking out my old friend’s cell phone. It stills works, but has no reception. It is amazing how far the world has gone with technology, but when we need it most, it fails. I flip through the phone, looking at his photos. Photos of his family, of his brother, of his friends, and of himself. Taking a deep breath, I begin to descend back down the mountain. This man, whatever his name was, lived a happy life. He had no regrets, and lived every moment to the fullest. He lived. If I die here, I would have wasted my life worrying.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Alright dancers, line up.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I scurry up onto the stage, taking a spot at the back. The other dancers glare at my appearance, recognizing me from past auditions. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Alright dancers, for the first cut I would like you to create a dance, two minutes long. Show me everything you have to offer.” //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Oh Lord. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> My weakest point. Creating. I begin to breathe heavily, my hands shaking. My legs start to shake like a small dog. Panicking, I Ieave the stage. I run up the theatre stairs, and out the door. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">I’m not good enough. I can’t do anything. I am nothing. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Emily,” Kiera calls, “where are you?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Coming,” I answer. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I run down the hill, attempting to let go of my fears. I head back to our meeting point. Kiera spots me and runs towards me, tears flooding down her face. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Emily, the guys are at it again. They won’t stop bickering. I’m afraid of where this fight is going. I’ve never seen Zach’s face so red. He is so upset his cut from the plane has started to bleed again.” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> We head back to the men, who have now started shoving. Kenton’s eye is as purple as a grape, and Zach appears to be favouring one leg. Kenton keeps on pushing Zach further and further, towards the ledge of a cliff. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 0px; overflow: hidden;">

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “You have no right to judge me, Zach! You don’t know what I have seen, what I have done. You have no clue who I am!” Kenton screams. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “I know exactly what type of person you are! You are an uneducated coward; you are a lowlife who lives day by day!” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Silence. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kenton lowers his bloody fists, unable to produce words. Zach is panting, realizing he hit Kenton straight in the heart. Zach begins to stutter, trying to pull out an apology. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I should say something. I should do something. I should hold Kenton away from killing Zach. I need to do something. // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">I dash towards the men, finally standing up. Finally living my life with no regret. Finally living. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kenton begins to raise his fists, tears flooding down his filthy face. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Hence, Zach begins to panic, “I, I’m-“ <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Zach loses his footing, falling backwards. The helpless man descends down the cliff. Falling lower… lower… and lower. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Kenton freezes in disbelief. Kiera shrieks, crawling towards the cliff, looking down at Zach’s lifeless body. I fall to my knees. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Afterward, I glance up at the sky, asking why such terrible fate has been chosen for Zach. He had a wife. Zach had a life back home. //<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Why? // <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Suddenly, a black speck appears in the sky. I squint, trying to look past the blazing sun. The speck becomes bigger, and I recognize its propellers. A helicopter. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kiera starts to frantically wave her arms, trying to see her saviour through her tears. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> The plane lands on the hill I once sat upon. Men file down the slope towards us, carrying medical bags and blankets. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Are you the only ones left?” <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> Kiera nods slowly, remembering others who weren’t as lucky. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Hey, who is that guy walking off?” a rescuer asks. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> I trip, chasing after Kenton, and finally speak up. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> “Kenton,” I shout, “please listen to me. This is our second chance. We both aren’t proud of our past, but we have been given a chance to change our future. Please, not everyone is as fortunate as us to have second chances.”

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri,sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">“Thank you,” Kenton pauses, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Thank you for speaking up, thank you for helping me realize my second chance.”