I awoke to the smell of burning rubber and my throat was dry as a desert. There was smoke beyond the crumpled metal all around me. The sun was at eleven 0’clock. Hours had gone by and yet I was still alive. My friend, Larry, hadn’t been so lucky; I could feel his rigid body beside me.
That’s when I remembered Sebastian.
“Sebastian!” I yelled and turned searching for any signs of the rocker.
“Help! They’re after me, man!” I could see his bloodied figure stumbling amongst the rubble.
“Sebastian, you’re okay! Nobody’s after you!” I yelled back at him.
I tried getting up; I couldn’t move. My legs were lodged underneath metal. I tried again and this time I felt extreme pain. I looked down; I was looking at bone protruding from flesh, my flesh. I was trapped in the wreckage of a plane with a broken leg and my only salvation was a Jim Morrison reject. Great, I had to figure out a way to persuade him to drag me from the plane. Things were looking grim.

It would be sunset before anyone came looking for us.