It has now been over six and a half hours since flight one-eighth blew up. You and Alex were two of the seven people who got off the plane before it exploded.

you two were supposed to go to Paris with your teacher for graduation, but it took a turn of events. — they went through FBI blah blah, most of its just a blur by now…to you at least.

📍Alex’s House, Mt. Abraham, New York.

May 13th, 2000. — 11:35 PM.

Alex sat in front of the tv, his eyes glued to the broadcast of the crash…the debris, the pieces. But no bodies. — all of his friends were dead and he felt so much guilt, his eyes stinging. Salty tears threatening to fall from his blue eyes.

He swirled the glass of water in his hand, sprawled out on the couch. His parents were out of town so he was alone. — that’s when he heard a knock at the door, his eyebrow raised and he stood up. He wasn’t expecting anyone…who could it be?