Per 
A crash.
She awoke amidst the cabin of her plane… Her head splintering into many-a-bits. She could barely feel her legs.
Forcing herself to stand, her legs quaked with fragility. “Hello?” Her shrill voice rang out, “Are you guys alright?” She makes her way up the rows, clinging to the chairs as to bear her weight. She reached the last set and collapsed, her knees buckling under the stress of her body’s weight. She fell to her knees and slowly pulled herself up to the entrance of the cockpit, crawling on all fours. Suddenly she came to her senses, several shockwaves of burning heat shot up her legs, she cried out in agony. She finally managed to find her way into the cockpit, where the captain and co-captain lay. Wrenching herself up using the chairs, she feels for a pulse, but finds nothing.
She is alone.
Alone. That thought resonating in my brain, somehow it hurts more than the physical pain, my mind ignoring that in the midst of adrenaline. I can ignore the pain, but I can’t ignore the nothingness. The silent dread that jumped around in my mind, the quietness shattering my eardrums. There is nothing.
The awareness struck me like a dagger, but a new sensation gripped me like no other: thirst. It’s possibly been hours since the crash, and my throat is drying up. I need to find some water before I perish.
Stepping out into the blistering heat, the deserts vast expanses overshadowed me. I was nothing to the mounds of sands towering over me. Climbing the sandy hills, the open plain was more daunting than I ever could have expected. The moon glaring down from the sky, shattering the dark by reflecting a bright light over the desert.
I could see nothing in sight at all, nothing to give me any sort of clue where I am. I am lost in the sands.
I started back to the plane when I heard movement, looking over my shoulder there I saw nothing. It was nothing. At least that’s what I’ll tell myself.
Sharp pain. My back felt like it was being lit a-flame, the pain was settling in. The sheer adrenaline suppressed the injuries I sustained in the crash. I could feel every muscle tense and retract, in perfect symphony. The feeling of ripping and tearing pulsing in my back as the muscles push at themselves.
It all started culminating, starting with my back; my legs then locked and I fell flat on my face, every single tendon tensing and twisting, a scream never managed to escape my lips, my throat grasping the last bit of air and holding it in. My head was twisting off, splitting into thousands of segments as everything went to dark.
Gasping for air, my lungs relented, but it wasn’t enough. Gasps for air erupting, trying to capture air, but never quite grabbing enough. The air was rotten, burning my lungs, but still my body wheezed for more.
The coughs then poured from my throat, finally have woken up enough to pull myself up. My body was sore, but I pushed on until I made it to the back of the plane, where I laid for what felt like hours. After what felt like ages, I got up and shifted around looking for boxes, gripping them and pulling them down. Locating a few water bottles, all punctured. Seemingly someone punctured them open with a large knife. But who?
A question that didn’t quite reach my mind in the moment, as I lifted more boxes, I found a single metal bottle. Opening the lid, and pouring out a drop of the contents, it’s clear it was water. Water that I needed. Putting the lid up to my mouth I started to try to pour it down my throat. But it wasn’t right, the taste of poison lingering in my lips I spit it out. The taste of metal filling my mouth. I knew it was water, but the poison was in me. The thirst. The thirst prevented me from drinking the water, it was in my throat, in my mouth and in my stomach. The dryness soaking up every bit of water, rehydrating my body with what little I couldn’t spit out. Cautiously I lifted it back up to my lips and began to drink again, the metallic taste never quite escaping my mouth. But I pushed on, until the bottle was empty. Finally coming to my senses, sitting up and looking around, the area around me was weathered unlike before. The leather chair I was sitting on, was now impaled. Someone must’ve been there and I’m intent on finding out who.
In the little room, I was able to locate some oatmeal bars, but I decided to not eat them just yet. Something doesn’t feel right in my stomach, and it’s not the hunger.
When I went outside the moon hadn’t moved an inch, the sky was as clear as it was when I passed out. Yet my watch clearly stated that over 12 hours passed. Looking around once again, yielded similar results, I just hope that someone can locate the plane and I can get rescued. They should be searching by now, it’s just a matter of time. I heard a rustle again, there’s no way I’m making it up. “Hello?” I cried, “Is there someone here?” Nothing. Nothing responded. That’s the part that unsettles me, the nothingness of it all.
So I reentered the cabin and sat down in a chair, to drift off to sleep.
I woke up in a cold sweat, crying. My brain finally beginning to process the craziness of this all, the moon shining through the window. Stuck in a permanent-night the brevity of this situation makes it dead clear I am alone and possibly will be for the rest of my life. I hope with all my aching heart that I am saved from the loneliness…
Crash! An explosion of noise rung out in the night, the plane’s cabin shook. I instinctively pushed myself back into the storage room, where I recovered a single Swiss Army knife. I didn’t want to look outside, but if someone, something, makes their way into here I want a fighting chance. “Hello!?” I cried out like the previous nights. “Is someone there?” I quaked out, my voice quivering. The cabin shook again, more violently as if a giant beast was pushing against it. It kept shaking, then it stopped. I heard a loud screeching sound, and see a giant claw ripping a hole into the cabin. Whatever it was stops, I see an eye peer in. It’s a giant golden eye with a big black pupil. The eye glanced around the cabin and stopped at me. It dilated, clearly catching a glimpse. I’ve been frozen, as it stares into my soul. Not only do I see it, I feel it's gaze. It's like a dagger has been thrust into my heart. Minutes pass as it stares at me, suddenly the eye disappears and the noises stop.
My mind was suspended in time, as if drifting away, scared off into the darkness by which was seen in the light. It was lost into the shadows.
My brain sooner rather than later resurfaced.
Thoughts filling it like a moth to a flame. I could process what may or may not have just happened. But I try to not, an attempt to push the image from my brain as quickly as they appeared, shoved to wince they came. The hole in the plane clear as day, or in this case, clear as night. Maybe I can’t ignore this. I decided to make my way into the cockpit again.
Being in the cockpit I couldn’t help but notice the absence of what used to be there: the bodies of the captain and co-captain. Thoughts of loneliness one again penetrating my brain like a dagger cast from hellfire, the burning sensation in my stomach from sheer loneliness.
However, I must push on. I must find help, so I shall head my way to the back, gather some materials and set off.
