The Flight Of Your Life

The Press

***Thank you to all of you who read my stories! Much appreciated!*** Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awoke twenty four hours later to many unfamiliar faces around my beside. Mitch was no longer in his usual seat, but in place was a smart looking man in an expensive looking suit. They had noticed my slow regain of consciousness and the room suddenly fell silent. I was a little intimedated by the number of eyes staring towards mine.  

It took a while for me to register where I was again and who they all possibly could be. In the far corner of the room I noticed my doctor standing there quietly. It was as if he wasn't supposed to be there, but fought his way threw by any means. It gave me slight reassurance to know that someone who cared for me was here.

A man in the opposite corner stepped forward whilst clearing his throat, "Ahem, Miss Newman.. My name is Mr David Tear and I'm here from the AAIB. The doctors have been informing my company of your rapid progress and have agreed that you are well enough to provide evidence of the accident."  His tone was stone cold. There was no emotion in his voice whatsoever making shivers go shooting through my aching body. No response was near to exiting my mouth. I remained as silent as the room itself. I didn't know where to begin or how to approach the situation. I didn't know whether he wanted the full flight details or the moments during the period of time when we lost both engines. My eyes pressed deeply into his for a prompt. Something that would allow me to flow continuously in an automatic mode.

As if a miracle had occured, David Tear cleared his throat once more and proceeded to say the following, "Miss Newman, why don't we start with where things started going wrong during your flight  and your instinctive approach to resolving them hmm?"

I managed to nod and then slowly began to manouvre myself to an upright position. Here I felt I was more of an equal with the other bodies within the room and by doing this, I appeared as though my answer would be thorough and would contain much relevant information into their enquiry.

"We had already completed five hours flight time when I noticed a flashing light on the instrument pannel that should not have been there. It was warning myself and Captain Hamilton that the oil pressure within engine number one was decreasing. This is unusual as even towards the end of a flight, oil pressure should not be dropping. We always carry more than necessary for over-sea crossings." I took a long pause as if I was composing myself and gathering more aquiring more information.

I glanced across to Mr Tear who nodded in approval of my statement and then gestured for me to carry on.

"Instinctively, I raised my concern with Captain Hamilton who had already caught onto my alarmed expression. He instructed me to check our flight speed and fuel consumption within both engines. To my surprise they were both normal which confused me as one or both readings would be decreasing along with oil pressure as well. A greater oil consumption should mean that we were consuming more fuel which would suggest that our airspeed was increasing, but we was not. We were flying level and at a consistant speed."

I had noticed that a few men within the room had turned to discuss something between themselves. I was assuming it was about my statement. They were probably from the NTSB and were trying to conclude my evidence, but they didn't speak a word to me. Instead of being worried about what they were saying, I simply turned to David Tear to look for an answer. He again nodded, but then said, "Thank you Miss Newman.. I know you haven't explained the whole of your evidence back to me, but for now that is all we were looking for. We will be in contact shortly. We wish you a quick recovery Miss Newman, get well soon."

With that, the bundle of men who were crammed into my tiny room began to  disperse through the door. The room had opened up and light was able to fill the dark spaces making me feel more relaxed. To my surprise I hadn't noticed my doctor still standing in the same corner he had been assigned too. 

"Alice, I'm sorry about all the commotion. They were never going to leave you alone anytime soon.. I thought that sooner rather than later would benefit your mental health in the long run.." He left his soft voice trail off.

I couldn't manage a response that linked directly to what the doctor had just said. The words of 'mental health' kept replaying in my mind. I hadn't thought about the consequences it would have on me as a person. It left me wondering whether I would ever pluck up the courage to step foot in  a commercial airliner again; at this moment in time my answer remained no. 

"Where's Mitch.." I questioned in a serious tone. I had completely dismissed his statement due to being anxious to find out where Captain Hamilton was. I wanted him here at this moment in time. I wanted to ask him whether he had been through the same questioning process and whether they had come to any conclusion on the cause of the crash. Maybe that would remain a mystery for a while, whilst the public suspision dramatically increased on the safety of aircrafts and whilst the media were able to push and shove their way through to create a headline.

My life was going to change forever.

It wasn't long after asking the doctor of Mitch's whereabouts that he finally turned up looking slightly brighter than he had done previously. He looked as though he'd been able to grab a strong cup of coffee and something to eat. It was quite a relieving sight to see him looking perkier. 

"Did they question you too?" I asked quietly. 

"Yeap, they know how to make you feel entirely responsible don't they! I know that we did everything by the book! It was practically a textbook procedure, but they looked at me as if I didn't understand what they were actually asking!" 

The tone of his voice showed that he was infuriated by the whole situation. I hadn't thought about what he had just said before. What did the AAIB and NTSB think had happened? What did the passengers think had happened? In what way would the newspapers take our story?

Suddenly, the whole situation didn't just become about the stricken airliner, it became about those involved and how the situation was handled. Many things started to arise in my mind of what would actually occur if it turned out that we had been responsible for the crash of our flight. The thoughts were becoming too much to deal with, and so, recoiling back down into the bed I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 

~~~~~~~~~~~   ***Still more to come, thank you for reading!***