Ghost

. C A T H A R S I S .

[20 Years Ago]

THE PLANE SHUDDERED VIOLENTLY, small scraps of metal that had been ripped off by the sheer force of the wind passed by the windows of screaming passengers. Smoke was billowing past the plane, and a civilian witness would later say, "It looked like a terrifying dance between flames and dark smoke, escorting them to their deaths."

 Flight attendants flung themselves into any open seats, and those who couldn't clung desperately onto the tops of occupied chairs, delivering the worst-case-scenario instructions. Looking back, you would remember the respect you felt for the plane crew, how they had stayed calm knowing that the odds were against their survival. 

A young woman was seen in D24, grasping the hand of the teenage boy beside her while he clung to his little sister. In an attempt to flee her violent nation, she had put her children in a horrible situation. 

She looked at her children, deciding that she was going to be their rock, one final time. As a mother, you have a sense of pride, as though you can never let your children know that you are human. Never let them know that you cry at night. She caressed her kids faces, trying to paint their image into her brain, wanting it to be the last thing she saw and remembered before she inevitably died.

 "I'm so, so sorry." She strained, her voice wavering slightly. "I love you both so much, we'll be okay. I promise you, we will make it out together."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They were not okay.

The Boeing-737 crashed into several trees, ripping the tops off and eventually, the wings. On impact with the ground, the back half the plane ripped off, the front half continuing to slide forward until in ultimately exploded, killing all present instantly.

Now, contrary to not-so-popular belief, a plane does not split perfectly. It tears off as much as it can, splitting rows of seats apart or splitting the catwalk. The young woman was ripped from her row, now belonging to the front half of the plane. She died painlessly, her last image was a large, looming tree. But, her last memory was her children's faces. 

The boy and girl were still together, an odd j-shaped chunk had been carved from the left side of the plane and the catwalk, connecting to the front portion and taking their mother with it. The tail end of the plane hit a tree on the left side, in turn sending the right half flying forward. The sister was flung out, landing next to the biggest boulder you'll ever see in your life. The moving end of the plane hit the boulder just after she landed, sliding up it like a ramp. 

Going right over the little girls head, a small scrap of metal broke off and fell straight for her, horizontally slicing open the skin just below her eye. The rest of the tail fully pivoted and smacked into the back of her head before smashing into another tree, squishing the boy against it. A branch impaled him through his chest, the seat behind him, and the passenger behind him. He did not die yet.

Instead, he bled out slowly for nearly a full minute before the gas tank started to leak, ingnighting on the broken fuses. He died from smoke inhalation and blood loss, but ultimately from the ear-shattering explosion that sent bits os flesh and limbs and shrapnel flying in all directions. 

There would be one survivor.

You.