Turbulence

It’s been 26 years since I last boarded a plane. It’s been almost 3 decades of living firmly on solid ground. I was never a fan of oceanic views or mountainous terrain. I never looked up to the sky in awe or wondered about life on other planets. My dreams of being an astronaut never came to fruition since they never happened. I never liked flying then and I still don’t but in order to make it across the ocean in 13 hours, this is the only way.

I would’ve taken a cruise ship and rather sink in the Artic if I had another choice. I would have rather flown with Superman and conquered many time zones in a second instead of dooming myself again. Mutant wings would have been preferable but instead, I am taking the plunge like I did before. I hope I live to regret this atrocious choice.

The weather never called for lightning or thunder. I don’t recall the sun ever masquerading as a demonic fireball. There is a battle being fought out there in the sky and wind. It’s like a special effects team has done its magic outside my window. The captain keeps repeating that we are experiencing turbulence but it will alleviate soon. The stewardess that checked up on me earlier is in shambles even for a veteran. If she is freaking out, then there is a major cause for alarm. I cannot believe I am in this predicament for the second time.

I was 4 years old when my parents divorced. My father put me on a plane all by lonesome from New York to Alaska. I was to meet my mother in Juneau because she was too busy to get me herself. My father gave up on family life long before his marriage ended so he wasn’t going to go above and beyond for me. My plane ended up crashing somewhere in British Columbia in the desolate forest. I was 1 out 18 people to survive. From what my mother told me, the plane went down due to pilot error when really that pilot got less than 5 hours of sleep before the flight. I refused to ever jeopardize my life again or ever put my very life into someone else’s hands. My refusal means nothing when the captain tells us to brace for impact. The storm outside is winning and there’s nothing I can do to save myself. My fate is sealed and I can feel this turbulence and this vertigo putting me under a heavy spell. I faint and hope that the pain from the crash makes me numb. I hope I don’t feel a thing.

I’ve succumb to my own demise. I feel when Death skipped over me the first time, the inevitable would always find me again. Living in dismay and permanent anxiety was something my therapists could never heal. I was always in fear that my future has been decided by Death though I survived the first attempt. Through some divine intervention, I don’t know what else to call it. Some fluke, some glitch in the matrix, some master plan that kept me alive for all these years just to catch up to me. I wake up dead, I can tell. I feel my body heat evaporate and my heart is imploding underneath my sternum. I see white, the color white spilled out everywhere all around me. I’ve gone blind. I’m dead and my brain is still adjusting. I lift my head and feel my muscles and tendons react as if they are on fire. I’m cold though. How can I be cold and on fire at the same time? I see………snow. I’m alive in the snow. I’m alive.

I see wreckage and mechanical parts strewn in tattered pieces. I see blood in splatches and hear screaming. We crashed and I survived, again. I’m not alone. I don’t know where we are but if Death couldn’t do its job right the first time, I’m not going to wait a second time. My arm must be broken but I’m still in denial about being alive. The pain takes a backseat to my disbelief. There are no words to describe this. I’m alive again. I have to find and help the others so we can figure out how to get out of here. I don’t know how I survived when I was 4 but I’m 30 now. I’m alive again. I survived. Hallelujah, I guess.