[ WP ] A plane is about to crash and you secretly have the only parachute on the plane , what do you do ?

Of course the plane is going down. The one time I heed my weird friend's warning and smuggle on a parachute, the plane is going down. 
 
 The plane shakes as the pilot announces, `` We are losing fuel fast. We can coast after it's gone, but we will have to make an emergency landing. Passenger's please buckle yourselves in, the fight attendants will be checking on everyone.'' 
 
 I have the right-hand window seat, the one on top of the wing. Beyond the wing is nothing but trees. The man next to me is starting to hyperventilate. I pull my backpack out from under my seat and unzip it. He glances over, and recognizes the bright yellow fabric. `` He... hey... is that a... parachute?'' He asks in between breaths. 
 
 I look him in the eye, and say quietly, `` Yes. It's a parachute. But we probably wo n't need it. The pilot said he can coast us into a landing.'' 
 
 `` Ye... yeah.. if he.. finds.... somewhere to... land.'' 
 
 Then the engine explodes. There's a flash, and the shock wave deafens my right ear. The man on my left screams, `` Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!'' He grips the seat below him firmly, as if he can melt himself into it. The plane starts to veer right, but I've already unbuckled and I'm climbing over him and into the aisle. I hold up my backpack, `` I have a parachute!'' 
 
 Some heads turn toward me. `` Are there any small children?'' I ask. `` We can tighten it enough for a small child.'' 
 
 The pilot has started to straighten out the plane, but it's clear things are n't going well. 
 
 A woman behind me shouts, `` My son, he's twelve!'' 
 
 I start to turn, just as a man towards the front says, `` Wait, my daughter, she's only six!'' 
 
 Another man in the back says timidly, `` The woman next to me has a baby.'' I turn and see a mexican woman cradling her baby and crying. 
 
 I shake my head. `` It wo n't hold a baby. And besides, we're over a forest. Whoever we send will have to fend for themselves for at least a couple hours, maybe more. 
 
 The woman with the twelve year old says, `` Well if we're going to play the numbers game then none of that matters. We have to save the baby.'' 
 
 I take out the parachute to see if it can be adjusted for a baby. No sooner is it out then it's gone. A quiet man in a dark hoodie has grabbed it from me and is running to the front emergency exit. I shout, `` Stop him!'' A panicked looking flight attendant stands wide-eyed as the hoodied man runs past her, unstopped. He's already got his arms through the loops and is straining with the handle to the emergency door. 
 
 I start to sprint after him, but the left engine explodes, and the plane veers. Everyone is screaming. I fall into an empty seat, and I can see that up ahead the hoodied man already has the door open and is jumping out. 
 
 I climb. The plane is swinging back and forth, but I climb as fast as I can over people and seat cushions and dislodged luggage. I reach the door. The wind rushing past makes a howling noise like a demon being tortured. I leap out. 
 
 I just barely avoid getting hit by the right wing, and I have to squint to avoid the wind burning my eyes. I look around frantically, until I see the man with the parachute about 100 feet below me. I point my feet towards him and try to keep my body as straight as possible. 
 
 I fall, praying that my aim is true. After about 5 seconds I hear a billowing sound below me, and I feel my feet hitting the deployed parachute. 
 
 I fall into it like a christmas tree getting wrapped in netting. I'm pretty sure I hear him shout `` No!'' as I fly past, and then I'm dragging him down with me. 
 
 We tumble around each other like dancers, held together by ropes instead of folded hands, and I laugh sadly, knowing justice has been served.
