Perdition

Perdition- Chapter 3

People always say that sleeping is the best medicine; something about it numbs the mind, but let me tell you it’s just about as stupid if not more stupid then it sounds. Seriously if this were myth busters, well you get the idea. Sleep did nothing for me last night if anything I was exceptionally glad to wake up again besides I was really starting to need to go to the toilet, we all know that feeling.

“Excuse me” I say to the watchman,

“I uhmm really need to go” he spins around and gives me a perplexed sort of look. One quick gesture to the crotch quickly fixes that though and embarrassed

“Ahhh” mumbles though the room breaking the silence. He calls for his henchmen and they come quickly, unstrapping me and leading me to one of the toilets at the far end of the plane. He calls for a woman and then he walks around the corner leaving her with me. Do you know what it is like to be watched when you are on the toilet? Well I do now. If it hadn’t already dawned on me that I was being treated like a maximum security prisoner, it had truly sunken in by the time I flushed.  These kinds of occurrences have the power to turn even the super confident model into some sort of self-confidence blob on the floor and trust me it is not a place you want to be.

This time when they lead me back they offer me a seat in an unoccupied row. Apparently it is unsafe to allow someone to lay down during landing but to tell you the honest truth, I really don’t think they cared at all about what happened to me, probably just grateful to get rid of me. Pass on my so call “mental disorientation” to some other poor soul. The thought sent my breathing into another round of palpations, surely they wouldn’t just let me go when I got off the plane, for all I know they would probably have the police on the airstrip with handcuffs waiting for the glorious moment when I stepped of and they could formally arrest me for all my assaulting crimes.

I have to give the pilot some credit though he made the landing so smooth that it would have been possible to remain on the bed anyway. I asked one of the attendants to collect my baggage from the overhead lockers. He went and retrieved it before escorting me down the aeroplane stairs, but to my surprise there was no police, but the flight people lead me to the door where I was met by a border security officer.  He grabbed one of my hands without a word and let me to conveyer belt to reclaim my other luggage.

“Which bags are yours?” he asked. I vaguely gestured to the large tattered bag approaching us. He reached out and grabbed it, lifting the bag clean on the conveyer belt. I have to admit I was pretty impressed that bag weighed over 30kg and was labelled heavy. Before I had time to compliment him in any way, he was leading me towards an interview room.

 “Jesus Christ!”

I mutter softly enough to not be heard, could this day become any worse.

He turned and locked the door before demanding me to present him the key so he could unlock my suitcase.  I handed it over; I suppose that co-operating might get me out of the airport quicker and off to my new apartment. My attempt to start afresh in my life hasn’t been such a success so far and I am starting to fear that I have made the wrong decision by moving across the country at such a young age. I sit in the chair silently as I watched the officer search through every nook and cranny in my bag before proceeding to scan it for all major drugs. Trust me it was a huge relief when the results from the scan came back negative, but the officer wasn’t finished with me yet. He sent a female officer to pick me up and take me to an x-ray machine. I think they were exceptionally disappointed that I wasn’t carrying an illicit substance internally, and even more disappointed when they were forced to let me go, they no longer had any ground on holding me, although I was fined a nice $600, for my supposed attack on the airline hostess, at least they didn’t peruse the path of having a criminal record put against my name.