InsaneJournal

Who: David Anderson, Trisha Jenners.
Where: Tailie's jungle, then to the jungle/beach line.
When: Thursday, September 23, 2004; early morning.
Eh, long again. Sorry. Hopefully it works alright though?

It was hard to say if the first thing he noticed was the pounding headache, or the bright sun in his eyes, not that it mattered as both were bothersome. As was the mud seeping through the back of his shirt and jeans. All in all it was a piss poor way to start a morning. Musta been a rip snorter of a party, he mused to himself as he tried to sit up. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had a little too much fun at a fraternity party. Though it would be the first time he woke up in the woods. When the pounding in his head worsened, he decided sitting up was an awful idea and crashed back down into the mud. Which sent a nice spray of it all around his head. Not that he cared, he couldn't get any muddier if he started rolling around in it.

David continued to lay, trying to will away what he was currently assuming to be a hell of a hangover, for quite a while. The mud on his face (and blood, not that he was aware of that part) had begun to dry in the sun as a matter of fact. Which was about the time he decided that even if it was unpleasant, it was time to get up. After all, he likely had class, and then plans with Trisha. The latter thought was likely what really drove home that he needed to get up and out of the forest, hopefully straight into a shower too. So after what felt like forever of struggling to find his footing in the slippery mud (really, after falling so many times he'd begun to wonder if his life had suddenly become some sort of tragic comedy), making his headache so much worse his entire body ached, he was standing. It was a little sad how triumphant that fact made him feel.

Until he started trying to walk and found himself leaning against the closest tree groaning, "never again," a few times. Once his head seemed to right itself as much as it planned to, he began trying to walk again. This time making it a bit further before slumping against another tree. "This is going to take all day," he muttered. Then, as it just dawned on him, he started digging in his pockets for his cell. Frowning when he couldn't find it, staring at his empty hands as if they'd betrayed him.

All this work, plus the sun beating down on him, had caused a sweat to break out, which had the semi-salty mixture running down his face. Which would be all fine, except it stung as it hit the scrape on his right cheek. Which was a bit alarming. But then, so was finding his shirt to be slightly tattered. Frowning harder, he ripped a strip off the shirt and brushed it against his cheek. Letting out a yelp at the sting that caused, but brushed at it a bit trying to get some of the mud off. Glancing at the scrap of fabric, he found himself even more alarmed as there was blood (brushing at the caked mud also brushed away the bit of clot).

And just like that, everything sort of clicked. Being in Australia with his family and Trisha. Boarding the plane to head back to school. Then the turbulence that turned into so much more. Which made why his entire body ached, he was bleeding, and had no cell phone a little easier to stomach. The fact that he was no where near anyone else though, that didn't help. At all. If anything, that sent him into a bit of a wobbly.

"TRISHA!!!" was bellowed out, and then his poor tired legs were trying to carry him out of the trees. He needed to find his friend. This sort of thing wouldn't sit well with her, this much he knew (thinking about her as anything but alive, and at least mostly well, was unacceptable). So he found himself kind of ping-ponging between trees, causing his aching limbs to ache that much harder, and after every few feet he'd call out for his friend again.