As Dylan sat cross legged on the sand, watching everybody scramble to help one another and digging holes to bury the deceased, he scoffed. They were all so desperate, unable to help themselves and there he was; perfectly fine and healthy without a care in the world. In full honesty, being stranded on a deserted island sounded much more interesting than Rome any day of the week. He was sure to get some laughs out of it as well when he is the only one strong enough to last all the way.

Plus, he knew that they would get off in no time. He bet that there was already a rescue helicopter cominf to save them, and they would be back home by sunset.

"Dylan, you a**hole! Get over here and help!" Marisa yelled from far away. She was working with William and some others on burying and carrying away the dead. But despite hearing her, he didn't move. He didn't even move his head. He heard her growl, but he still didn't look over.

"Hello?" She called, obviously annoyed. "Do you want us to die out here?"

There was a more silence, and Dylan came to the conclusion that she gave up. He let out a sigh of relief. Finally.

"Hey, are you gonna help or not?" Dylan turned around to see a girl with long brown hair that was pulled together with a single clip.

Not another one. How many Marisas were on the island?

Dylan shook his head. "Not," He said, turning back around and hoping that she would leave right after that, but she didn't. Inateas, she scoffed and didn't look like she wanted to leave any time soon.

"Excuse me? For your information, there are people here that may only have a minute left to live and that's what you say?"

He nodded, not resiting to show his annoyance with her. "Yep. And if they only have a minute to live you shouldn't be wasting your time asking me to help."

She scoffed again, walking away from him which made laugh, even though he was both humored and irritated by her actions. So desperate. If one more person asked to help, he was going to loose it. He. Wasn't. Moving. And that was final.

Plus, all of his friends were at home. He wasn't going to waste his time on people that he didn't care about.

He didn't pay attention to Marisa's calls for his help and instead focused his mind on the rubble in front of him. God, it was brilliant. The leftover smoke curled around the broken pieces of the once-white airplane, turning it even darker than it already was from the crash. The broken glass scattered across every inch of the wreck like puzzle pieces, some parts getting hidden by the sand and dirt that served as a finishing touch to the masterpiece.

He smiled, taking in every single detail. How could such a disturbing sight soothe him?

***

Their head shot up, coughing up saliva that started dripping down their face. Ty's eyes weren't focused yet, and all they could see being the bright blue sky and sun shining in their eyes. They wiped the liquid from their chin, squinting as they looked around. All of a sudden, a sharp pain pierced their forehead. Ty winced, holding their hand over it. As they did, they felt the stinging sensation of an open wound, blood staining their fingertips.

Ty looked away from their hand and tried to focus on their surroundings. It seemed like everybody was in a rush, scrambling to help one another. It confused them the more they looked around. What was happening? Why were they bleeding?

"Ty!" A familiar male voice called. Ty flipped their head around and saw Nico running towards them. He wasn't moving very fast, and he already looked pretty exhausted. Nico squatted by Ty, wearing a mixed expression of concerned and relieved. "I was afraid you weren't going to wake up. That cut's pretty nasty."

Ty looked down at their hands again, bundling them up to hide the blood. They had no idea what was going on, or where they were. "What happened?" They asked bluntly, very confused.

"The plane crashed. I don't know how, but it did." He moved a little closer to examine Ty's forehead, the latter uncomfortably scooting back away.

"I'm fine," They lied, looking down at the ground instead of making eye contact.

"I'm not an idiot, Tyler," Nico raised his eyebrows but Ty stayed silent, not speaking up and telling him that their name wasn't really Tyler. It was something that they didn't like to talk about, their real, full name. And it was weird enough that an acquaintance was attempting to guess it after they barely knew each other at all. "I can tell when somebody's hurt."

Nico reached his hand over to Ty's forehead but before he could touch anything, Ty knocked his hand away. "I'm. Fine," They repeated, annoyed.

"Alright," Nico agreed, backing away. "I'm just trying to help, though."

"I'm fine," Ty repeated for the third time, which just made Nico even more certain that they were lying, but he kept quiet. Instead, Ty was the one to talk.

"How many people died?" They asked bluntly. Nico bit his lip, obviously upset by that question.

"Um," He started hesitantly. "ten... But I think everyone's hurt." He motioned to his hand, which had a growing bruise all along it.

Ty moved away a little more. Their forehead was still stinging in pain, but they tried to ignore it so that Nico didn't worry. "Do we have any supplies?"

Nico shook his head. "All destroyed."

Then why are we still here? Ty thought, but immediately shook the thought out of their head. It was too much to think about. But they had something else to think about, something much more important.

They couldn't just sit there and wait for rescue with no food, water, or even supplies. The one good thing about that island was the huge forest located on it. There had to food and water somewhere on there, maybe something they could use for supplies as well.

But how long could they go off the small island's resources?

"Ty?"

They shot their head up from their thoughts, not realizing how long their spaced out. "Mhm?"

"What is it?"

"What do you mean?" Ty asked, pretending not to understand what he was talking about.

"You spaced out. What are you thinking about?"

They swallowed. They didn't plan on telling Nico, but they didn't really have a choice at that point. "I'm running away, into the woods."

He gasped. "But why?"

"Do I have a choice? I'm not going to die, Nico."

He hesitated before replying. "But we're the youngest here! We'll never last a second in there!"

"But we won't last another minute out here!" Nico just looked at them with a conflicting expression. "You don't have to come, but I'm going. It's for the best."

And with that, they ran away as fast as they could, sure not to waste any more valuable time.

***

Eira poured a little water out of her water bottle and into her hands, careful not to let any drip out. She had been lucky enough to find a few water bottles in some of the rubble, but to her dismay, they were empty. She handed them out to everybody working with the injured and they filled it up with the freshest sea water they could manage so that they could at least clean up the wounds a little until they got real supplies. However, while everyone tried their best to help, Karimah Leya definitely did the most. She basically had a panic attack after she fully started to understand what was going on and completly ignored her own injury, doing everything she could to help the others.

With the water still in her hand, Eira poured it all out onto the face of the boy that she was helping to heal. She didn't exactly know who he was, besides the fact that she had seen him sometimes in the halls and in Study Hall, but she didn't even know his name. All she knew about him was that he was seventeen-like herself-and that he was always around a large group of people, which is probably why she hardly even saw him before.

Eira smeared some of the water around his face, making sure to clean his many cuts on his face. Seemed to Eira that a bunch of mini shards of glass scratched up his face, since there were hardly any big cuts but a whole lot of small cuts, so many that it almost covered up his whole face, excluding his lips. The blood from the wounds turned the water red and as she continued adding water and cleaning off his face, she watched as more and more red liquid dripped off of his face like candle wax. It was almost eerie.

Then, when she added her third handful of water, his eyelids opened.

"Holy shit," He muttered, looking around. Eira shushed him, stroking his arm to calm down his nerves. Her mother always did that when she was worried or in distress, and it always worked for her. But it didn't seem to be working for him. The boy sat up immediately, all of the blood water on his face spilling down to his chin.

Eira shushed him again, but he still didn't listen. Instead, he panted, his hands shaking and matching the type of breaths he took as well. He looked so confused and scared, and Eira felt bad just looking at him.

"W-what?" He stuttered, reaching his hand up to his face. Eira grabbed his arm, trying to put it back to his side but he was too strong. He touched some of his cuts, yelling out in pain. He moved his fingers away from his many wounds, wide-eyed at how much blood stained the tips. The boy made eye contact with Eira, and started to move away as if he didn't notice he was around people.

"W-what's happened?" He asked her. She paused before answering, and held her arm up in the air at an angle facing him and moved it down diagonally, trying to resemble a plane crash. He went even more wide eyed than before.

"And m-my face? W-will I be okay?"

She didn't know how to respond, because she really didn't know. Instead of looking the boy in the eye, she watched a drop of bloody water drop down his face and onto the sand, staining it with it's bright crimson color. Without any more hesitation, she gently grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down, but the boy, still completely lost, shot right back up afterwards. Eira begged him to lay back down by shaking her head and putting her finger to her lips.

"B-but my question?" She still didn't answer. She continued shushing him, putting one of her hands on his arm as if she were trying to push him down again, and, being extremly tired, he finally listened. Eira grabbed the end of her shirt and started to clean off the water from his face, making him wince and occasionally cry out in pain. She didn't want to use her only clothing as a cloth but she had to to help him. He closed his eyes, and she guessed that he was trying to invision something peaceful and happy instead of the cruel reality they were in, and somehow, it seemed to be working. And she was glad.

"Eira?"

Eira flipped her head around and saw Arabella, wondering what she needed. She raised her eyebrows, motioning for her to continue.

"Have you seen two little boys, one that's pretty tall and one earrings?"

She thought for a second and remembered seeing the tall boy somewhere on the airplane, even though he wasn't very tall compared to others, but she hadn't seen him recently. Why did Arabella want to know all of a sudden?

Eira didn't have to say anything for Arabella to answer the question she was thinking of.

"They're missing."