Love or Justice

days of old

The world exploded in a cacophony of sound and fury, a maelstrom of metal and fire. The impact was brutal, shattering the plane into a mangled heap of twisted metal and burning debris. I was thrown from my seat, my body slamming against the cabin walls, my mind reeling, my senses overwhelmed.

Then, silence. A heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the crackling of the flames and the faint sound of my own ragged breathing. I opened my eyes, my vision blurred, my body aching. I was alive, but barely.

I looked around, my gaze scanning the wreckage, searching for Alessandro. He was lying a few feet away, his body twisted, his face pale. I crawled towards him, my movements slow and painful, my body screaming in protest.

I reached him, my heart pounding in my chest. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow, his pulse weak. I checked his injuries, my hands trembling, my mind racing. He had a head wound, a broken arm, and several deep cuts. He was alive, but he was in bad shape.

I knew I had to get him out of there, away from the wreckage, away from the flames. I dragged him from the plane, my movements slow and laborious, my body screaming in protest. I pulled him into the dense forest, away from the burning wreckage.

I found a small clearing, a hidden sanctuary amidst the chaos. I laid him down, my heart aching, my mind filled with a desperate hope. I knew I had to find help, to get him to a hospital, but I didn't know where to go, or how to get there.

I was alone, stranded in the wilderness, with a wounded man, a man who had tried to kill me. I was a fugitive, a traitor, a woman without a home. I was lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty.