Spring break.

FINALLY.

I sat in the commercial jet that would be leaving taking me to the Caribbean in minutes. Anxious to leave, I was already buckled and clutching my bag with a smile on my face.

"Leigh." I glanced forward and my parents waved at me a row ahead. I grinned and looked out the window as my mind began to wander.

Inside my backpack lay my favorite book, which had been conveniently introduced to me by my English teacher a few months back. I'd read it 2 or 3 more times since the class finished, though that only caused me to love the story more.

"Lord of the Flies." Even the name was cool. It was the direct translation of Beelzebub-a word in Hebrew that meant devil, Lucifer, Satan, whatever you want to call humanity's interpretation of evil. The story itself was a simple tale of boys trapped on an island, but what I loved about it was its allegorical significance.

While the boys became corrupt, they stood for parts of our own broken society. I sighed. As much as I adore Lord of the Flies, it made me feel sick to read about those boys.

Really. I don't like kids. But all those kids lost physically and mentally made me wish I could yell to them, to help them, or comfort them in some way. Even the bad ones, like Roger and Jack-I bet someone could've made a difference in their actions if they tried.

My eyelids became heavy as the plane started moving. I'd fallen asleep before we even took off.

…

My eyelashes fluttered open when my name was called. My mother paused while I readjusted myself in the seat. She motioned to the stewardess who pushed a cart down the isle and gave out drinks and snacks. I gladly accepted water and pretzels, and then ate a few before starting to fall asleep again.

…

I woke when the plane jolted suddenly. A second hit made me sit up and look around at the other passengers. They were glancing around as well, just as confused as me. We heard the pilot begin talking over an intercom.

A lower part of the plane has been blown off. Please remain calm and retrieve the flotation devices from under your seats. Securely attach them to yourselves before heading to the nearest exit.

WHAT? I started hyperventilating. Had there been a bomb? Faulty mechanics? What was happening?

Everyone stood and grabbed the seats that they hoped would save them from the water that was surely coming closer and closer to us. I stumbled when the plane hit the water, but slung my bag over my shoulders, grabbed the float, and headed to the flashing red exit sign.

With ease we slid out of the plane to the dark water. People groaned and complained but stayed afloat. I snickered to myself at how ungrateful they were to be safe. After a few minutes, a flight attendant yelled something to all of us. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear her and remained confused as people swam away from the floating aircraft.

I gasped as some force in the water pulled me back and down. I dimly recalled reading that sinking vessels would pull floating survivors down with them. Oh. That's what she was talking about.

The pressure on my lungs increased and kicking made me exhausted. I let the darkness consume me.

…

I couldn't feel anything. Numbness overwhelmed me…but…somehow I floated towards a bright light.

Was my life already over? What would wait for me on the other side? No. That can't be right. I'm an atheist. I have PLANS for my future that no one is going to take that from me, regardless of their power. My anger rose as the pressure in my chest subsided. The light dimmed and eventually disappeared. My numbness became discomfort for the wet sand against my back.

After coughing up what seemed like enough salt water for the entire Atlantic, I sat up and rubbed my stinging skin. A moment later I noticed the sun was being blocked and looked up.

My own hazel eyes stared into malevolent blue.