Hijacked
If you atomic number 18 listening to this it is because I meant for you to. If you are listening to this it is because I am dead. My name is Zach. Thats solely you need to k in a flash. My wife Aubrey and I are passengers on this plane. We were wed yesterday and were just head teacher to the British Virgin Island of Tortolla for our week-long honeymoon. About half way thither I took over the plane, and here I am now recording my story into this orange lash that they actually resound a black box. Prime example right on that point of how backwards our society is. If its a bright orange box why would it be called a black box?
Anyways, at the present moment I have the entire confine of the plane, including the flight attendants and pilot burners locked out of the cockpit. My wife is out there with the others. The pilot gave me a few bits of advice about how to handle the plane and what depart happen before it propels nose first into the ground and we all kick the bucket. My plan is to cruise this plane as far as it has enough fuel to go, and then mould tight maculation its engines burn out and we all crash and die.
I will sit here calmly and tell you my story so when you are clearing away the wreckage trying to determine what happened you will find oneself this and the whole scenario will become crystal clear to you and the perch of the population who will hear about it. For once the world will finally hear about my plight. Isnt it tragic that the unless way to get a message across to volume is to take hostage of 200 people and force them to die with me?
It was...
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