Frozen Echo

Eric Bagwell... At least I remember my name. I look around me to see if I lost a limb or two. Only carcasses laid waste around me.

I’m still whole.

My eyes flutter open. Carcasses scatter on the sea of white. I blink against the harsh glare of the sun. I struggle to piece together what happened. My head throbs from the fragmented recollection that surged in short bursts. The last thing I remember was the violent plunge. The piercing screams. Then it was the cold embrace of the darkness.

I push myself out of the frozen ground. My body is aching and beaten. Pieces of the plane spread out in various directions. Cuts and bruises adorn me in this monument of tragedy.

My feeble breaths form frosty clouds in the frigid air. I feel the ice clawing at my lungs.

The cold bites through my clothes, gnawing down to the bones. I grit my teeth against the chill, forcing my battered limbs to move.

Even if there’s nowhere to go.

It gives me even an ounce of warmth as I trudge the knee-deep snow.

No signs of life, despair mock me.

The chill seeps deeper, I succumb to my fate. With a heavy heart and aching limbs, I sink to my knees, my regrets crushing me. In this silence I whisper my apologies to the ones I left behind. I hope the wind carries my message to the ones I hold dear.