She must have laid there for a dozen minutes or so before she even bothered to look up. It was tropical, like somewhere a super-rich boyfriend would take you on holiday. Unfortunately, Alanna didn't have any super-rich boyfriends on hand, they might have been a little helpful in motivating her.

Motivation was exactly what she needed right now as pain tugged at the very edges of her being. She couldn't see anyone else and this only fortified the thoughts of isolation and eventual death upon the island. She wouldn't pull a Castaway, there would be no freighters coming to pick her up. She would eventually die on the island and there wasn't a thing she could do - Alanna had never watched an episode of a survival show and she had the survival knowledge of an introvert.

She would never ever admit it, but she thought about it. She thought about rolling over and letting the pain have it's way with her and quickly give up on ever trying to get out of this. But she knew she couldn't, she had a life ahead of her and a mother and father, she couldn't afford to give up.

So, she ignored the pain flying through her as she crawled up and tried to pull her torso off the ground. This must have failed on multiple occasions and she screamed more than once but finally, she was up and inspecting her wounds. Unfortunately for her, she had a small price of shrapnel embedded in her thigh - something that would be very painful to remove.