My eyes snap back open. The window keeps slipping farther into the ocean. I hold my breath and dive under. I put my hands against the window and watch as Josephine’s fearful eyes gain a glimmer of hope. Her hair is splayed all around her head, and she’s completely submerged underwater. At the same time, we both swim to the surface for air and dive back down to stare at each other once more. With sad eyes, she puts her hand against the window, and I do the same. Josephine mouths goodbye, but I won’t listen to her. I try to scream at her, but the only thing I do is shoot bubbles out of my mouth. I pound against the window, but it’s no use. Quickly, I swim back to the surface and look for something that will break the window, but I already know I won’t find anything. I dive back down even further as the plane keeps sinking. Josephine begins to close her eyes, and I slam against the window to keep her awake. Desperation takes over as I pound against the window again and again, but Josephine only smiles at me sadly. She shakes her head, but I won’t listen.
And then suddenly, I’m pulled upward. I feel a slight pressure in my arm, but I can’t tell what it is. I lost most feeling long ago. And then I’m at the surface, gagging and sucking in air. Everywhere people scream and cry for help or loved ones. Waves keep crashing against what’s left of the enormous airplane. In front of me, someone keeps a strong grip on my arm and holds onto a bright blow-up life jacket. Other than the plane and the life jacket, everything is black. I squint my eyes and realize that the person in front of me is Chris. His hair is stuck to his head in random places and his brow is creased, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. I try to shake him off, but he won’t let go. I shove water at him and kick back down to Josephine, but he doesn’t let me go under. More tears cascade down my cheeks, only to be washed away by oncoming waves.
Chris doesn’t care though – he only watches me sadly and keeps a vice-like grip on my arm. “No, Emily, don’t go back down,” he finally says. I look at him with anger and defiance.
“I have to! She’s my best friend!” I cry back. His brow is creased and I can tell it pains him to tell me the next words.
“No, no she’s not,” He says.
“But she’s going to die!” I yell indignantly. He must understand that I have to save her! She’s the only thing I have!
“You’re a paranoid schizophrenic, Em. She’ll always be there,” he says reluctantly. Chris searches my face for some sort of reaction. As if I didn’t know. I can’t breath steadily enough to reply. A new string of tears pushes against my eyes, and any second I’m going to break apart and fall to pieces.
“No, I can feel it. She’s dead,” I finally whisper after what seems like several minutes. Instead of trying to get away, I fall against Chris’s chest. I can’t take the pain. A wooden stake has been shoved into the very center of my heart, leaving it to bleed and wither. He puts a comforting arm around me and stays silent as I let the tears fall one after the next. A helicopter’s wings blare in the distance, but at this instant, I can’t do anything but cry.