I always hear it. In the water, the ice. They think I’m insane, hallucinating even. But i know what i hear is not a lie, not a figment of my imagination. It’s been like this for a month now. Supplies dwindling, people going insane. Mostly me, but some have gotten bad. Ever since the plane crashed us in the middle of the arctic sea, we’ve had to survive on the few pieces of food we’ve scavenged. Not everyone has survived. In fact most have died. We see their dead bodies floating in the middle of the freezing water - dead from starvation or the cold. Only ten remain standing, in the floating and broken plane.

My job is to make sure no water gets into the plane and to make sure we don’t sink, since before this crash I was a sailor. I miss my kids, my wife. There’s no going back though. I know I’m going to die unless some miracle happens which I very much doubt. Today is day 41. I walk to the emergency exit door and slide it open, welcomed by cold air that stings my face. A bucket in hand, I start collecting water that had sneaked into the cabin and throw it out into the open. A daily routine, the same as always. Never changing. Suddenly, I hear it again, that sound that everyone thinks I’m insane for. It’s so clearly there, in the water, I know I’m not hallucinating. It sound like a scratching noise, trying to escape the thick ice covering the water. I yell for my friend who rushes to me, and gesture to the water, shushing him to be quiet. His ears perk up and I know he’s heard it too.

“Hah. This shows I’m not insane as you continually say.” I snicker, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“Ok, ok. Your right. But what is it?” My friends face is laced with confusion as he stares out into the vast ocean.

“I’m not sure. Some kind of monster maybe?” I grin.

My friend looks at me worriedly. “Are you sure your ok?”

I frown, confused. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

He laughs, the sound hollow. “Why do you lie to yourself?” I glance at him, fear slowly creeping up my spine.

“I - I don’t understand.” I slowly back away from him, as he chuckles maniacally.

“You really don’t get it do you? Look around. Look around for real and stop lying to yourself.”

I oblige, confused and slowly turn my head around the room. No one is there. My head snaps back to my friend, but he’s gone. Everyone is gone. Because in reality, my friend was right. I am insane and entirely alone.