Airborne (Aftermath)

White flashed before my eyes and my head hit the roof of the plane.  The paper i was writing on was torn from my grasp by the force of the air. I rubbed my bloodshot eyes and the plane exploded.

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The wreckage was later examined and after a while it was concluded that there had been no survivors. The crash had been caused by a fight. Apparently the co-pilot had been carrying a bomb in a pice of tin foil embedded in some chewing-gum.  And the pilot, being an ex-soldier had shot the man through his head. Knowing he should try and concentrate he locked the doors to the cockpit and made a vile attempt to steer the plane to safety. But they hadn't made it to land in time. 

The whole crew had died including the pilots. All the 153 passengers had been killed apart from one person. They compared the data of the people that had departed to that of the dead bodies. After the comparison it was concluded that only one boy had survived and judging by the name scribbled on the piece of paper at the wreckage, the boy's name was Aakash. 

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I rubbed my bloody hand on my grimy t-shirt, then wiped the sweat of my face. I'd started from the plane about a day and had lost track of time. I was in the middle of nowhere, out somewhere in the countryside. I hadn't suffered any injuries apart from my iPhone. It had been in my pocket but once the plane exploded it was technically a massive fireball about to hit the land with a lot of force. So I was knocked unconscious. When I finally woke up I took of my seatbelt and managed to walk a few feet forward before falling back to the ground. White hot pain shot threw my leg and my body flared. I cried out. Screaming in agony, I twisted my head around to face the wound. A splinter, a sharp piece of the iPhone was sticking out of my thigh. Blood poured from the wound and flowed onto the ground, the level readily increasing. I felt sick and retched again and again the vomit flying out my mouth until there was nothing left in my empty stomach. The world spun and I felt weak. Then I blacked out.
The next time i managed to get the piece out of my thigh and the process was painful and after pulling it out i had to keep pressing the place around my wound. Blood kept flowing out and my hands were disgusting. I limped away from the wreckage and walked about a mile and then finally got my bearings. 

I knew where i was. After a few turns I'd reach my school.
I limped in its direction hoping my identity wasn't destroyed, hoping they would remember me.