Marina+M


 * Passing Time **

**Being Alone**
 * Chapter One **



"Danté, are we the only ones?" a young woman asked, her large eyes filled with fright as she looked to the man beside her.

"I-I think so, maybe. I don't know," he responded hesitantly.

The woman stood up, her light hair whipped her face as she looked over her shoulders, as though she were expecting to see someone running, frantically, out of the shadows of the forest.

"We should find... something," she said, her voice full of sorrow. "We need a fire, and... maybe.... maybe there could be someone out there."

"Rose, I think we're alone."

With these words, she burst into tears. Her sobs seemed to echo against the vast ocean, seeming out of place with the song birds chirping around him in the soft morning light. Awkwardly, he reached out an arm to pat her on her back, trying to give, if anything, some small comfort.

"We have to try," she choked. "We have to try." **...**  She'd been sitting in the back of the plane, watching the two flight attendants flit about between first and business class. It amused her, seeing the cheery smiles slip away every time they came through the blue curtain separating the two. The business classmen weren't worth the false grin that the first classmen got, but Rose was used to this; she wasn't worth anything. That's why she was sitting in the back of a plane, cold, and alone, with a crazy old lady on her left, and an emergency exit to her right.

Could life get any worse? Recently dumped, broke, and running away, she sat there, stewing in her own misery. That was when the explosions started.

As if from a movie, her vision went out of focus, and she could vaguely make out the figure of a particularly large flight attendant falling onto a passenger.

"Everybody remain calm. Please fasten your seat belts, and pull out your emergency kit from beneath your seats," came the voice of the pilot, yelling from the cockpit of the small plane.

Rose craned her neck to peer through the small window of the passenger in front of her. Her eyes were met with a sea of blue, rapidly approaching.

Another explosion sounded, and the plane was knocked to right. Those who had been sitting in the row opposite were now strewn in the isle, and Rose could feel the weight of several people crushed against her.

"We're about to hit the water! Open the emergency exit!"

She did as she was told. Then all she could do was swim.

**...** "Please, for the love of God, stop screaming!" A large, dark woman bellowed. "It's giving me a headache!" She sighed, rubbing her round, obviously pregnant belly.

"The demons! They're punishing me! Why won't they leave me alone?" cried an old lady.

To their right a man chuckled. Both women turned to stare at him aghast. A man covered in burns and bruises, wearing torn clothing, in the middle of a deserted island, chuckling? Their shock quickly left their faces, and they resumed their argument; the old lady screaming about her punishments, and the pregnant one trying to shut her up.

"Oh, come on," the man interrupted, "You just survived a plane crash! You, Shä Nae Nae Jones," he pointed to the pregnant woman, "and you, Edith Doolittle," he now looked to the old lady, "just survived a plane crash! Against all odds you're alive, and all you can do is bicker!"

The women stared, flabbergasted, watching the man’s amusement quickly turn to anger.

"You don't stop to think about whether there may be more survivors, you don't think about food, or shelter, or fire. All you do is fight." The man huffed, turning away to stomp in the direction of the forest. "All you do is fight," he repeated under his breath.

"Wait! Chris, Wait for me!" Shä Nae Nae called after him, her feet sinking into the pale sand as she quickened her pace after him.

Not wanting to be left alone, Edith hobbled along behind them, leaving the small beach quiet, and empty.

**...** "Danté, my feet are killing me! Can we sit for a few minutes?" Rose groaned, her eyes sweeping the forest floor for something to sit on.

Danté stared at her, looking over the bruises along her face, and the burns running down her legs. A looked of disbelief spread across his face.

"You were just in a plane crash, and didn't utter a single complaint, but, now, because your feet hurt, you need to stop and sit?" he muttered, disbelievingly. "Women."

"Oh, alright, Mr. I'm-Afraid-Of-Spiders-Big-Guy! I'll try to be less wimpy!" teased Rose.

"Hey! It's not my fault they're so damn creepy!"

"Oh, alright, blame it on the spid-"

"Shh, do you hear that?" Danté interrupted.

The pair sat still, listening for signs of life among the leafy palm trees. For several minutes they didn't move, still as stone, when they finally heard it; the sound of a woman’s voice carried out from the forest.

"Just shut up already!" screeched a woman.

"Hey!" Rose called, excitedly, "Over here!"

She watched as a small group worked their way over to them. There were three of them: an old lady, the one Rose recognized from the plane; a pregnant woman; and a tall man. For a minute Rose could do nothing but stare at the newcomers; the heavy silence between them weighed down on her like a bag of bricks.

"Well," Danté whispered in her ear, "We aren't alone."


 * Chapter Two **
 * Camp **

"So, what do we do?" Shä nae nae asked. She turned to look at the gangly man sitting in the sand with his head in his hands. They were all sitting at the edge of the jungle staring at the vast sea, glittering in the sun.

"We-we've got to find shelter, and food, and water, and we need to make a fire," Chris responded with a sigh. He looked up, squinting his brown eyes against the bright, afternoon sun, and turned to examine each person in turn. Every one of them had cuts, burns, and bruises splattered on their skin.

"I guess we could split up. Does anyone know how to start fire?" Rose asked in a quiet voice, "Or know where some fresh water might be?"

"I can start the fire," Danté said, looking sideways along the beach. "Rose, can you go look for water? Try looking by the edge of the cliff; you may want to find something to dig a hole with. Look for wet patches, or streams. You'll also want to collect as many coconuts as you can if you can't find anything."

Rose nodded fiercely as he continued to give her instructions, while muttering the occasional "Uh-huh," or "Alright," under her breath.

"Shä nae nae, take Edith and see what you can find on the beach, anything that may have been washed up from the crash, or something that could look at all useful," he instructed the women. "Chris, go into the jungle, and look for palm leaves. Drag them back here; they'll be for our camp. Well, let's go!"

With these last words, Rose turned away from everyone else and headed into the growth towards the large cliff in the distance. After about ten minutes of pushing through palm trees and vines, she heard a slight hissing sound.

She froze in her place. Eyes widened, and breath held, she took a tiny step towards the sound, though she stopped short as the dry leaves rustled under her step.

After minutes of standing still, she finally plucked up the courage to reach down to pick up a large stick that was lying a few feet away. Armed and ready she took one large, cautious step towards the ever-steady hissing. Two steps. Three steps. And, nothing.

Red in the face, Rose realized the cause of the sound; a stream! Eagerly, she threw herself to her knees, and stuck her head in, gulping the water down. After satisfying her thirst, she stood up, turned away, and ran back to the beach, where Danté and Chris would likely be setting up shelter.

"I-I-I found wat-water!" she panted between breaths, once she got back to camp. "Down there, but the clearing."

"Good timing, Shä nae nae found some things on the beach," Chris said as he reached down for something behind a pile of palm leaves. Standing straight, he held in his hand a small, plastic bucket with little trinkets heard jingling about inside of it. "We've got a little first aid kit," he said, pulling out a little red pouch, "some rope, a mirror, and a pocket knife."

"The mirror sure-as-hell came in handy for the fire," Danté called from behind them. He was standing in front of a small flame that Rose hadn't even noticed. The fire was gushing out meager amounts of grey smoke, and to the right of it stood a rather lop-sided canopy of palm leaves tied to some braches sticking out of the ground. "It may not look like much," he continued, "but I guess it's home."

With these words each person looked around, taking in their situation. The island would have been beautiful, Rose thought, had they not been stranded there. The sun was bright, and warm against her skin, and the white sand seemed to lie perfect and unblemished.

"Well," Chris said, breaking the silence, "I guess I'll go grab some water. Want to show me the way?" He turned his head to Rose.

"Yeah, okay," she turned towards the forest, and stomped her way back to the stream, Chris following her closely.

...

Streaks of purple and pink were smeared across the sky, signaling the end of the day. The five castaways were huddled together under a shaky little shelter, unsure of the conditions the night would bring. Over the day they'd manage to set up all workings of a small camp, they'd even managed to collect some fruit, and catch a fish using the rope and bucket. Now they were yawning and drifting to sleep, that is until a shrill scream pierced the stillness of the evening.

"It's a snake!" Shä nae nae screeched, jumping out from under the shelter. Another, smaller, scream escaped her lips as she tried to run back, but fell backwards, instead.

"What? Where?" Danté yelled, rushing away from the forest edge.

"Over there," she responded, pointing a shaky finger in the direction of a small palm tree that was supporting the shelter. "I heard it hiss."

Cautiously, Chris took a small step towards the area. Behind him the others, now huddled together away from the danger, each gasped, held their breaths, and clutched the hand of the nearest person.

"It's a demon!" Edith preached, causing Chris to jump back. "We're being punished!"

"Just shut up!" Shä nae nae bellowed at the woman. "Just shut it!" The two women stood, glaring at each other, ignoring the sound of the sand beneath Chris's feet. It wasn't until his laughter filled their ears that they were brought back to reality.

"What is it?" Rose inquired.

"This snake," he began, putting air quotations around the word 'snake,' "is just a stupid stick." He finished, kicking the stick into the forest.

It was quiet at first, every one stood still, not knowing what to do next, but a small chuckle was let loose, and soon enough the whole party was laughing at their mistake. Edith even had to sit down for fear of falling – though that may have been more on account of her weak stature, then anything else. As the laughter died down the castaways headed back under the shelter, each of them drifting into an uneasy sleep.


 * Chapter Three **
 * Time **



Time passed. Though Rose was unsure of how long it'd been since arriving on the island, she was sure it'd been a while. By now the days seemed blurred together. She couldn't understand how things got to be so different. Though the colours of the days stayed the same- the sun always yellow, and the sand always white- Rose felt as if she was in a dark abyss, never to resurface.

All she could remember the fighting. Edith and Shä nae nae constantly at each other’s throats; screaming until their voices were hoarse, and their hearts beating quickly. They only ever seem to fight over one thing: the demons. It didn't help that each of the castaways were slowly losing their minds, and after just a few weeks Chris began screaming right alongside Edith, in full conviction that the demons were after him, too.

She tried to forget how to two demented people left, but this proved to be rather more difficult then it may seem. She couldn't forget how hard Chris worked on a make-shift raft, screaming for freedom almost the entire time. The image of him and Edith jumping aboard, and floating away haunted her.

Of course, they tried to stop them, or at least Rose and Danté did. Shä nae nae, sick of their preaching, goaded them on.

"When you reach the city, be sure to come back an' get us," she had told them, her words slurring together in greed. "And don't forget to tell 'em to bring us proper food when they rescue us. I'm freaking starved!"

On the day of their departure Rose and Danté did everything they could to save the two from themselves. Rose pleaded, whereas Danté swam out to the raft, trying to pull it back to shore. Unfortunately, a kick in the face from Chris was all it took for Danté to lose his grip, letting the raft slip away in to the vastness of the sea; to their inevitable deaths.

This was when Rose completely lost hope.

...

"Is the fire lit?" Dantés gruff voice asked in way of greeting.

"Yeah, I built it up again." Rose responded mechanically, as this was routine on the island.

"Shä nae nae?"

"Walking."

By now any form of conversation past this was a rare thing on the island. Long ago they'd given up on dreaming, and wishing, and getting to know each other. What was the use? Speculating on what could have been did nothing to help them, and the remaining three were forced to stop living in the past.

Abruptly, Rose stood up, marching blindly on the beach in front of him.

"I'm sick of this!" she screamed, her voice, so long left unused, croaked. "Sick of it, sick of it, sick of it!"

"Calm down!" Danté demanded, his deep voice full of authority, despite the shock of her outburst. His eyes followed body as she collapsed into tears, sobbing into the sand.

As if on cue, Shä nae nae emerged from the trees a few meters away from the scene. She took one glance at the spectacle, before shaking her head in obvious disapproval, and marching towards the shelter.

"How can you be so calm?" Rose shrieked at him. A pause, then a sigh was the only reply she got.

"How can you be so calm?" she repeated, now directing her voice to Shä nae nae. "You're carrying a baby that could come out at any time! It's got to be at least eight months by now! Aren't you scared?"

"Well, of course I'm damn scared! How could I not be?" Shä nae nae screamed back at her, breaking her dead air.

Rose was stunned. She stood up, shook some sand out of her hair, and walked back over to Danté, sitting back down where she'd previously been. The party resumed their silence as if nothing had happened.

...

"Is the fire lit?"

"Yeah, I built it up again."

"Shä nae nae?"

"Walking."

...

Groggily Rose lifted her head, staring into the inky black of the night. She could have sworn she heard a horn sounding from the sea.

"I'm going crazy, I'm going crazy," she chanted in a loopy voice.

"What are you talking about?" Shä nae nae demanded from beside her, in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," responded the girl. She lowered her head back down, not wanting to anger the others.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" boomed a voice, crackling through a megaphone. "I repeat, is anyone there?"

Danté shot up, hitting is head on the rood of their shack.

"We're here, we're here!" he screamed in desperation, waving his arms out above him as he fell into the sand.

Rose and Shä nae nae both took a different approach, neither of them believing in what they were hearing. Shä nae nae simply rolled over, going back to sleep, Rose, however, screamed out:

"You're not real! You're not real!" her screams pierced the air, as a cry was heard from the beach.

"We're saved!" Danté yelled.

By now, the sight of a man climbing out of a cargo ship was enough to have Danté literally screaming for joy, rousing the non-believing castaways. Both women rushed out of the shelter, only to stop in their tracks at the looming silhouette of the boat.

"We-we're saved!" Shä nae nae screamed, throwing her hands into the air.

The three survivors ran to greet their savoir.

"How did you find us?" sputtered Danté between his choking sobs of joy. "How?"

"There was a raft, about 100 miles that way," the man answered, pointing into the sea. "A man and an old women, they aimed us in the right direction."

"So, you mean, the-their raft... it actually worked?" Shä nae nae whooped in obvious disbelief. "They didn't die?"

A heavy pause came from the man. Looking at each of their eager faces, he opened his mouth to speak.

"The lady..." he began," She was weak. They'd been floating about for days, and they weren't very well prepared. She... she didn't make it."

The four of them all looked down at the ground, each feeling a different emotion. Rose and Danté were leaden with guilt, both of them believing that the death of woman had been their fault; Shä nae naes dislike of the old lady stunned her into an apathetic state about the whole situation; and the unnamed man tried imagining the pain these people had gone through, but this only caused him to be thankful for his less-than-extraordinary life.

With that, the stranded people made their way into a ship, sailing away from their prison.