SINCERELY, YOUR DARLA. || ~ jj maybank.

🌊| the "rescue" (41)

⚠️THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES:

-strong description of self harm
-blood

if you're sensitive to these topics please skip the end part. ⚠️

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DARLAS POV:

"Darla! Darla, wake up!"

Jesus I forgot how uncomfortable it was sleeping on sand, Sand is soft and grainy. It's supposed to feel like nothing. But when it's all compacted together it feels like concrete.

Luckily Sarah and I crafted these beds. They're made from strong leaves we found in the jungle and we tied them together to make befs.

"What?" I groan, why am I being woken up again?

"There's.. there's a plane!" Kie pushes me around.

I blink my eyes open a little more, stretching my torso out. "What?"

"A plane." She happily gasps.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes a little as I look up into the sky.

I see the rest are already up.

I jump to my feet, not yet fully conscious on what's happening. "A plane.. who's plane.. what plane?"

I see Pope and cleo running to the highest point to try and get the plane to see us.

I walk over to the edge of shore where the water and sand meet. John B, Sarah and Kie are already  trying to flag it down.

I scratch the corner of my mouth as I look up at the whirring plane.

I see JJ look over at me. His face is blank and he's not crying for help at all. His fists are clenched.

I tense my jaw. I know the conditions for him aren't great at home. This was paradise for him. This was the best life he could live.

"Wait.. you guys- he's turning!" John b laughs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god!" Sarah cries.

Kie runs over to me and hugs me. "Holy fuck!"

She stops and stands in front of me as I stand with not a lot of expression.

"Hey, what's up? We're going home!" She cackles.

I break a pretentious smile and hug her back, looking up to control my emotions. I don't know why, but I've grown fond of Poguelandia. It's kind of ours.

She pulls back and runs to Sarah and they hug.

I walk over to JJ and pat his shoulder. "We'll be good."

He holds his lips firm. "Hm."

I sigh.

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I cross my arms with not a lot of expression as the plane's door swings unsteadily open.

It's an old plane, quite raggedy and makes a lot of noise. It looks rusted along the sides and has a huge lettering across the base saying 'flying fish'.

The others are enthralled, excited and eager to get telling our story.

I see the man crouch out. "Hey there." He huffs.

The others celebrate.

I observe the man, unsure of him.

"What do we got here?" The man laughs, leaning against his plane.