Crash

Crash

I gaze out the window and see the beautiful fuchsia sunset. This six-hour flight hasn’t been as brutal as I thought it would be. Two more hours I think to myself. Aerosmith is blasting in my ears when someone gently caresses my shoulder to capture my attention. I look up and see that it’s the flight attendant and take out my ear phone.

“Would you like something to drink, honey?” asks the overly-excited flight attendant.

“Oh, yes, please...uhm could I get an orange juice?” I ask nervously.

“Sure thing,” she answers with an ear to ear smile while she pours me a plastic cup with orange juice.

She hands me my juice and moves on to the next passenger. It must be fun to travel the world. That just isn’t something for me. I start gazing out of the window again and see hundreds of white cotton-like clouds. I should read my book… I get my book out of my bag and look at the cover. The Outsiders, I’ve been dying to read this book and sitting on this plane finally gives me enough time. I turn the first few pages to get to the first chapter. I read it in no time. This book is better than I had imagined. I quickly turn to chapter two and start reading.

All of a sudden there’s a big crack of lightning and then thunder. A few babies in the back start to cry and everyone gets a little riled up. For a few minutes everything is chaotic, but then everything quickly eases back down to dead silence. I can only hear the engines of the aircraft, the thumping of my heart beating, and the old, fat man across from me snoring. I have always been petrified of planes. I try to calm myself down by listening to my music and paying attention to the way Steven Tyler expresses perfection in each and every note he sings. I find myself slowly falling asleep and it feels glorious. Glorious to finally be able to relax and let myself fall into a deep oblivion of sleep. There were hours of packing, but now, finally, peace. As soon as I begin to let myself drift off, I feel the plane beginning to shake uncontrollably. My eyes fly open and I glance around the cabin trying to figure out what is happening. Everyone is panicking, but I hear nothing over the sound my music is creating. I rip out my earphones. Over the PA System I hear the flight attendant trying to calm everyone down. Except now, she doesn’t seem overly-excited. She is scared. We are all scared.

Right then, the plane begins to make its unexpected descent towards the crystal blue ocean beneath us. Passengers begin to clutch their seats, their children, and each others hands. The sound of my music was now replaced with the shrieking of children and the chant of prayers. My eyes dart towards the window. The ocean blue is getting closer and closer. A kilometer quickly turns into eight- hundred meters. Seven- hundred, six- hundred, five- hundred. I can almost taste the salty sting of the water on my face when I woke up to the overly-excited flight attendant asking me what I want to eat for lunch.

Buccia. "Airplane Sunset." PicHost. Pichost, 14 Mar. 05. Web. 28 Jan. 2015. <http://pichost.me/1684227/>.