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Chapter Twenty-Three: Planes & Me

            The next two weeks were filled with lots of self-defense lessons and let me tell you, I could feel it in my back and legs. Every move strained my weakened ankle, but I could feel it becoming stronger each day.

The night before we left for the airport Mark told us to pack. We were sitting in the kitchen that evening after dinner. He pulled out two pieces of paper and handed one to me, and one to Amy. "I want you to pack what's on this list. I have weapons covered, and they'll be at our hotel when we arrive. But Amy, I want you to take your slingshot with a few basic projectiles in your carry-on, and Allie, they don't allow blades on board unless they're checked, so you're out of luck. Sorry." I nodded. We all left to pack. It was about 10:30 before I got to bed, because I couldn't figure out how to fit everything that I needed, but once I finished, I was ready to rest my sore muscles, and climbed into bed.

"ALEXIS" Mark's voice rang through my head. I woke with a start. I was sweating and my throat was throbbing. I looked around; Amy was standing in the corner of the room with a terrified look on her face, and Mark was kneeling over me on the bed, pinning my arms down.

"Deep breaths. Calm down. You're fine." Mark was whispering softly between gasps of air. I breathed and laid my head back into the pillow.

"What-" My voice cracked.

"You started screaming at someone and lashing around. I ran in here and Amy followed. Are you okay?" Mark replied, sitting down beside me on the bed, releasing my arms. I nodded.

"Amy will you go get her some water, I think her throat is dry." Amy ran out of the room, looking back through the open doorway. The clock on the bedside table said 3:00 am.

"Alexis, what were you dreaming about."

"I-I, don't remember." I said, pushing myself up.

"Please try." He said, looking at me closer.

"Um, I think Amy and I were back on Clery's plane, and-and, it exploded again, but this time, she was still-" I stopped, my head pounding. I sobbed out. The dream was awful. Mark froze, and looked me over, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. Just then, Amy walked back in, carrying a glass of water and a wet cloth. She handed them to Mark. He gave me the water and I took a sip, then I traded him for the towel. I laid it over my forehead, and rested my head back. The sweat turned to chills and I pulled the covers back over my arms. Amy crawled in next to me and curled up by my side, laying her arm over my stomach. Mark sat on my other side, rubbing his hand through my hair. I fell back asleep.

I woke up early the next morning with Amy still clung to my side and Mark lying on the floor, snoring. He rustled, and then stretched, yawning. I looked down at him, and he peered up at me.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, what exactly happened?" I whispered, not wanting to wake Amy.

"I woke up when you started screaming and ran in here. You were lashing around on the bed, and throwing yourself from side to side. Amy came in after and almost passed out. You really scared her. I tried saying your name, and just holding your arm, but you just kept on screaming and moving. I ended up pinning you down and screaming at you till you woke up." I nodded and moved back to stare at the ceiling.

"Alexis."

"Yes?"

"Do you... remember your parents at all?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Not one little thing... Except," I paused.

"Except what?"

"I have a vague memory of my mom singing to me at night. Not what she looked like, just her voice." He nodded. Silent.

"She sang to both of us. I would come in and lay next to you in bed while she sang. When she finished, we would be asleep, and she would carry me back to my room. She had a beautiful voice." I nodded.

After a long pause I whispered, "I don't get it." And turned back in his direction.

"Get what?" he propped himself up on one arm.

"You were part of my life for so long, and, and I have not one memory of you." he looked up at me.

"I told you to forget about me." How could he just tell me to forget?

"And I listened?"

"Appears so." I laughed.

"Well that's a first." He snorted.

Amy rustled and turned in our direction, her eyes squinting open.

"Wakey Wakey!" Mark called, jumping to his feet and flipping the lights on. Amy groaned. "We've got a big day of travel ahead of us. Go grab your bags and meet me in the kitchen. Bus leaves at eight." He walked out of the room, winking at me as he left. Amy crawled out of bed, and flopped onto the ground.

"Why were you screaming last night?" She asked standing up, and brushing herself off.

"I had a bad dream Aim, I'm okay now, don't worry about it."

"Okay, will you do my hair before we leave?"

"Mhm. Go get dressed and bring your stuff to Mark." She bounded out of the room.

I inched my way over to the edge of the bed and grabbed a crutch from the bedside table. The other had fallen in the commotion last night so I had to maneuver myself across the ground to get it. I grabbed a change of clothes off of the dresser and headed into the bathroom.

My own reflection stared back at me in the large mirror.

Dirty auburn hair hung down to my mid back, framing my oval face. I have an athletic build; strong thighs, slim hips, and slightly broader shoulders. I wear denim shorts and a white tank top most of the time. I've never really put any thought into what I look like before. Makeup isn't really my thing, and up until recently it was only Amy and I, so there was no one to impress.

I pushed my hair behind my ears, and looked at my face. In comparison to the girls in the magazines, I'm not necessarily model-status, but I do have clear skin and a decent looking face. When I was younger, my hair hung around my face in a wild mane. I also had had a fairly round face, but over time my hair tamed and I lost my baby fat.

I grabbed my hair in one hand and leaned against the counter so I could braid it over my shoulder. I decided not to shower until we landed in Italy, then struggled into my shorts and tank top.

In the kitchen, Mark had grabbed us cups of fruit for the road, and rushed us out the door. He had already run the bags to the car, so we walked at a pace slow enough for me to keep up on the crutches. Once in the car, Mark pulled out three cell phones from his pocket.

"These are for emergencies only, and all three of our phone numbers are in them. Don't lose it, and don't break it. If we get separated, call me." He handed one to each of us. It was about an hour from our house to the Los Angeles Airport so I sat back in the chair and relaxed for a little while. Amy fell asleep after about fifteen minutes and Mark broke the silence.

"Are you okay Allie? You seem tense." I looked out the window and told him I was fine. When in truth, I was freaking out.

Less than a month ago I had just barely escaped my death on an airplane, last night I had a dream where my sister died on a plane, and now I had to ride in one of the tin cans for 22 hours. To say the least, I was a little nervous. Mark nodded, turned the radio on, and placed his hand on top of mine, rubbing his thumb back and forth slowly across the top.