Angels Never Die (Phantom of the Opera)

ROSALIND

As the plane took off with a rocky bump, I leaned back a little in my seat, trying not to hyperventilate and just enjoy the ride like most people were. That was the natural thing to do, right? Especially if you were on your way to Paris, France, supposedly the most romantic city on Earth.

Then again, most of the people here probably hadn't lost both of their parents to a plane crash on an aircraft similar to this one, nor were they forced to go to Paris to actually live there, so I soon supposed trying to relate to anyone was utterly pointless.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around the tight "room", my hands gripping the arm rests tightly. I could easily guess that most of the people here were on vacation too, with the flashy clothes they bought just for this trip, so unlike the wrinkly, old clothing I threw on in my haste to pack up and get to the plane.

I grimaced and crossed my arms to keep warm, having left my favorite jacket in one of my suitcases. Why did my aunt have to live in Paris anyway? Was it just to make my life harder? I don't even think I've ever had to use my passport until now. And on top of that, the move happened so suddenly that I barely had time to learn basic French before I was taken away.

Sighing in frustration, I tried my best to curl up with the itchy, smelly fabric on my chair, even though I felt like I was being suffocated with so many people around me. 'Being grumpy won't get you back home,', I thought sternly, 'This is for the best, anyway; at least you're being taken care of, and you have a better chance at a career than you did before...even if it does mean that you will look like a stupid tourist for a few months because you didn't bother to learn the language earlier.'

Realizing that trying to relax at all would be pointless, I scowled at my thoughts and straightened up, grabbing "Wuthering Heights" from my carry-on. The passenger reading from their tablet beside me gave me a strange look, but I didn't really care. With the whole world rushing ahead with new and confusing technology, I found it good to just read a plain old book. What's wrong with being a little old-fashioned?

Having the window seat, I often switched from watching the rain pouring from my window in silence and contentedly reading my book. Despite where I was, I found the sound of rain pattering against my window soothing to my tired ears, and I rather hesitantly rested my head against the rumbling wall of the plane, always afraid that I would get sucked into the engine because my wall was ripped out or something.

The rational side of my head scolded myself for having such a vivid imagination, but the emotional side of me reared its ugly head, causing fear to encase my heart like a block of ice.

By the time the stewardess came around with thin pillows and blankets, the lights on the plan going pleasantly dim, I gratefully seized the chance to escape the rest of my plane ride and fall asleep. The storm brewing outside, however relaxing it was, was causing more turbulence than I liked, and with every jolt I felt, I shrunk back a little more into my chair.

The passenger beside me gave a sympathetic smile, patting my arm lightly, which only made me flinch and my skin turn even paler.

"Afraid of flying?", she asked in a sickly sweet voice, her smile looking faker by the second.

Deciding to be polite instead of punching her like I wanted to, I simply nodded and gave a nervous smile before resting my head against the wall agai nwith the pillow, happily finding that the pillow provided enough protection against the rumble in the walls that I was no longer disturbed by it.

Praying that I wouldn't have any nightmares tonight, I restlessly tossed and turned for a while before I finally fell into a deep, hopefully dreamless sleep.