Fairfax, Virginia. That’s where I was headed. I was supposed to get on a plane. Great. I’m terrified of heights. Every time someone got on the plane, it shook. People were crammed here and there. The seat belt sign flashed. People sat down and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes. I heard someone talking on the intercome, announcing our flight and where we were headed. As if I didn’t know where I was going.

The plane took off. I felt like I was going up a rollercoaster. It’s like, you know you’re going to go down a steep hill, so you’re belly is getting ready to fall out. But, on the plane, I knew I wasn’t going to go down a steep hill. Car crashes are more likely to happen than plane crashes. At least that’s what the statistics say.

Two hours left. I kept trying to sleep. I wanted the time to go away. My brain refused to relax, my stomach untwist the knots. All of the sudden the male voice of the pilot said that we were hitting a current, and to buckle in again. Bump, bump, smooth. Bump, shake, rattle, bump, smooth. Bump, bump, bump, shake, rattle. Gas masks fell. Attendants buckled in the back. The pilot spoke, but no one heard. People screamed. I was going down that steep hill on the roller coaster. My stomach dropped. I was sucked into the chair. I tried to lean out my window to look at the approaching land. But it wasn’t land, it was ocean. Big, dark, water. Panic took over my brain. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. After those words were thought, I was strangely calm. Weird right, that after I thought I was going to die, I’d be calm? But it wouldn’t hurt, at least I didn’t think it would. Maybe the impact would break my neck, and I’d at least be unconscious while I drowned. It was odd thinking that I was on a plane to go live with my older brother. That I was going to die for that. I would never have expected this to be the way I died. I looked across the aisle and saw a woman comforting her daughter. It reminded me how my mother would hold me when I was little, and tell me that everything always gets better. After she died, I doubted her words. But still, the scene of the mother and her child comforted me, and I wasn’t afraid to die.

I thought of all this in a split second. There was a loud whistling sound that drowned out all others. I could barely hear myself think. KERACK. It sounded like lightning splitting a tree in half, like on the movies. And then the thunder. People screamed some more. Then I was cold. Colder than I’d ever been. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t move. I felt like I was still falling. Then there was nothing, except darkness.

There was bright burning light in my eyes. I tried to get away from it. My whole body ached. Something was pounding on my chest. I tried to scream. Noise didn’t come out. Instead, there was water. Fountains of burning water bursting out of my mouth and nose. I cried. It felt like I was choking on knives. I wanted to breathe in, and when I couldn’t stop myself I coughed. I coughed and coughed and coughed. I tried to get rid of the tickle in my throat. Rivers were streaming down my eyes. I sucked in cold air through my burning, lungs. My chest felt beat, my face like raw meat. My arms were jelly, and my head ached. I closed my eyes, and listened. People were talking. Six dead. 34 alive. I was part of the 34. We were close to New York City.

I fell asleep. I didn’t dream. At least not that I remember. When I wokeup, iw as in a living room. My big brother was staring down at me. I slept through my visit at the hospital. My brother smiled at me. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Agh, I feel like I’m going to crash and burn today.”
Oh Gawd.