The Writer & The Player #Wattys2016

Chapter 5

I awoke to the the distant running of an engine and the soaring of wind flying past the air at what felt like a million miles an hour. My fingers lace around the blanket that is covered over the top of me as I open up my eyes to what looks like first class. There is a mini television in front of me, a pillow that feels like clouds behind my head, and what seems to be breakfast, waiting beside me on a small table that's shared with the neighbouring seat. 

I lean up from the reclined seat and slide the blanket off my body, pushing the recliner back in to form a chair. My hand instinctively searches for Sidney's necklace again, and finds it in it's place around my neck. Steadying myself up right, trying to eliminate the nauseous feeling in my stomach, I looked towards the food. 

Bacon and eggs with sour dough bread, halloumi cheese and a glass of orange juice. Beside my plate was an already devoured plate, with nothing but small scraps of fat from the bacon left alone of the plate.

"You're awake." I turn to the right of me, to the sound of Zac's voice. 

"It seems that way. I feel terrible." I sigh, picking up a fork and poking my food. Maybe I just needed some food in my system. After all I was on a limited amount of sleep, high stress and no breakfast.

"Do you need anything?" He asks. I shake my head in response as I look at Zac and take a small bite of some eggs with bacon, beginning to analyse his face. He was looking better than he was last night, that's for sure, his eyes were less bloodshot, but his cut looked like it had reopened.

The body swayed down as the aircraft seemed to decline in a large way, moving everything inside it. I hear the shatter of a glass fall down somewhere behind me.  I inhaled. I clench my eyes shut, dropping the fork instantaneously and gripping the arm rests of my chair. 

My airways begun to get smaller, and my body numb. I could hear a faint voice, but I couldn't make out any words. My head pounded as I felt my body sway. 

"It's just turbulence." I hear Zac say. "We're fine." 

I look down at the deep blood on my arms. Too many cuts to count, all covered in blood. I see in the distance a paramedic making their way towards me, and I can't breathe. All this can't be happening. This wasn't meant to happen.

My hands squeeze tighter, and my heart beats faster, as I remain with my eyes clenched shut and the bumps begin to to ease to the sound of Zac's voice trying to calm me out of my panic attack.

The plane steadies once again, and I peak open my eyes slightly. Zac is holding my hand firmly. I don't remember when he took it, but he continues to trace calming circles around my palm. 

My eyes catch his gaze. "It's over now. It's stopped." His free hand makes it's way across my face and under my eyes, where he wipes away the tears I didn't know I shed.

 "I need my sleeping tablets." I didn't know how long there was left in this flight, but I knew that I couldn't bare much longer even if it was only half an hour.

"Where are they?" Zac asks.

"In my carry on." I point with my left free hand to my bag that's sitting in the small compartment closest to Zac. He releases my hand and leans over me to grab my bag, rummaging until he finds my sleeping pills. My hand goes cold from the loss of contact, and can feel the faint trace of circles that are no longer there. 

Popping a pill out, Zac hands me his glass of water and the tablet for me to take, all the while I sit there stone cold and useless. 

I take the pill and try to calm myself, vanishing into the recliner. Within a matter of time, I fall into a heavy and desperately needed sleep for the rest of the flight.