Go to Costa Rica, they said, it'd be fun, they said. For Rauri Fitzpatrick, this was suppose to be the trip of a lifetime, a way for him to boost his career with the National Geographic as a photographer and to hopefully get to that next advancement stage in his career. Like always though, when he was set to go to a new country to see new things, he was excited and it was also his first time in first class which he was even happier about. Flying had always come incredibly easy for him, and Rauri always found it easy to doze off, always having the ability to sleep anywhere through practically anything, so sleeping on Delta 1388 had been incredibly easy for the Irishman, his body completely relaxed with a pair of fluro green BEATS headphones over his ears and brown eyes closed as he slept with some random movie soundtrack playing through his iPhone, and honestly? He didn't even feel the shudder of the plane. The only real reason he woke up was because of the sounds of the screams, it shaking his body to the core as he looked around at everyone in panic, his heart rate picking up dramatically as his hands grasped onto the seat in front of him.
Ah well. If he was destined to die, at least he had a good soundtrack playing through his headphones. A symphony of death, it seemed.
As the plane crashed, Rauri lunged forward, hitting his head into the chair in front of him, causing him to half blackout for a moment, blood running down the side of his face from a fresh gash above his eyebrow as he was semi-conscious, everything a blur and his headphones hanging down around from the back of his neck since they'd fallen off of his head. All he could hear was a buzzing, it sounding like a war was going on with the smell of burning and wires with plastic burning. Inside of his head, his brain was screaming at him to get off of the plane, so slowly, his hands found themselves to the buckle and after a couple attempts, his fingers managed to loosen the buckle, putting both parts to his sides before he pulled off his headphones. Everything was a blur inside of his head, even once his vision had cleared itself but his ears were still ringing and everything hurt. His head was pounding and his shoulders and ribs were killing him, but he continued to sit there for a moment, holding onto the side of his head to stop the bleeding, it having already made his white t-shirt a mess and his stomach was churning from nerves and pain, but what he started to notice was that his feet were wet and that there were actual people talking around him.
Mentally telling himself that he had to get up, he placed a bloody hand on the seat in front of him and slowly rose up to his feet, even though he was in water. "I-I think I'm alright." He managed to get out through a shaky breath and words that struggled to come out in his Irish accent. "We.. we should check to see if we can do something.. or something." He was dazed, and confused but he knew there were people more worse off then him.