Snippet #974595

Aislinn was constantly, repeatedly searching the stretch of sand for survivors. She sat patiently for what felt like a long time, squinting against the sun until her eyes had adjusted, blinking the after-images from her sight. There was nothing else she could do, and as her gaze skimmed the beach, she allowed her mind to wander. Memories of the cruise skipped lightly through her mind: losing her favourite notebook, ordering fruit salad for breakfast, pushing past drunk and wasted partygoers to reach her room. On reflection, it hadn't been that great of a trip. She should probably have saved the money and put it towards something useful, like paying off her loans. She groaned. Debt. The bane of every student's life. She had to get a job. These mundane thoughts remained in her head until her situation returned to her mind. Stranded. Alone. Injured. Probably doomed. Why was she worrying about her finances when her survival was thrown into question? A sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes made the sweep of the horizon again -- and hit gold.

More specifically, they found the approaching figures of two, maybe three people. She couldn't tell for the heat haze; maybe they were her wistful imagination. Maybe she'd passed out. Had she gone insane? She was beyond caring. There were people! She struggled to her knees, managing to ignore the throbbing in her leg, frantically waving her arms and shouting out at the top of her hoarse lungs: "Hey! Over here!" She instantly regretted raising her voice, as the mere three words clawed their way up through her throat like taloned beasts, reminding her of the litre of the ocean she had recently choked up. She continued waving her arms regardless, narrowing her eyes to try and improve her vision, to pick out features. They didn't look like mirages, but that was the point of them, after all. She thought, from this distance, one of them was pretty tall and the other was skinny, and was there a third? Another tall one…She shook her head, rubbing a hand across her aching eyes. It was too bright here. Her vision was blurring -- she was getting a migraine. She could feel it, announcing its arrival to make her life just that little bit worse. Habitually, she took her fountain pen from her pocket and spun it between her fingers to take her mind off the pain. She shook it, finding a dribble of water but no ink. Typical. What could she write on anyway? She was being petty again. She turned her attention back to the approaching people.