IWKBTKLITABBILHSWTF (title wouldn't fit, that is the acronym)

I HATE Airplane Bathrooms!!!

I was peering out the plane window and at the vast rain clouds hanging in the sky as the plane rose steadily into the air, when I heard something drop on the plane's floor. Looking down, I noticed a small metal stick had fallen next to my feet. I bent over to pick it up, and handed it back to the woman seated next to me. She was clearly a senior, knitting together some bright blue wool.

"Thanks," she smiled at me, her hazel colored eyes sparkled behind her spectacles.

"You're welcome! What is it that you're knitting?" I questioned, eyeing the safety manuel sitting in the seatback pocket in front of me.

"Oh, just a Christmas jumper for my dear Harry, darling," she replied, "would you like one too?"

"Oh no, thank you though. I couldn't possibly ask you to do that for me, after all, I've only just met you," I leaned into the aisle to take an artsy picture to send to my best friend, Lake.

I heard a deep dark deadly sigh from my left, and I quickly glanced over, just in time to see the lady next to me rolling her eyes.

"What?" I politely folded my hands on the tray table.

"You kids are all obsessed with your technology these days, not taking the time to take your noses out of your cellular devices to even acknowledge other people's existence. You think you are living a life on the internet, but you are really missing your life on earth," she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"Well," my voice suddenly fell hoarse as Lake replied to my text.

PING! PING! PING!

I tried to ignore the incoming messages, but the more notifications I got, the redder my cheeks grew. In order to save myself from further embarrassment, I gave in and looked down at the screen of my phone. I heard the lady sigh again, her distaste for my actions was apparent, but I ignored her and continued to stare at the screen.

Reading through the texts, they were pretty much all the same, and along the lines of: "OMG IS THAT HARRY STYLES TWO ROWS IN FRONT OF YOU!?!" and "IT'S HARRY STYLES GO STEAL HIS SHIRT AND MAKE HIM SIGN IT!!!". Exasperated, I unbuckled my seatbelt so that I could stand up and stretch out my aching limbs. My phone continued to buzz with incoming texts from Lake, but I disregarded them and headed to the bathroom.

I finally made it down the narrow aisle, carefully maneuvering my eyes around the other people's eyes so I wouldn't have to look them in the eye because their eyes looked like eyes to my eyes. I leaned on the plastic door to the restrooms, and pushed it open.

Suddenly, fear overcame me. MY knees started click clackety clacking together, my hands were shivering but they weren't cold, and my armpits felt kinda moist. I froze, paralyzed in time. Crinkle crinkle came a sound from inside the bathroom, somebody was holding onto the rough toilet paper. That didn't matter to me.

Airplane bathrooms were a deathmatch. You and the toilet. Flushing meant you would be sucked down and thrown to the hard earth at millions of miles per hour. A death so terrible, not even a boy band would write a song about it.

"You doing okay, hunny?" An elderly voice crackled. I looked up from my shoes to find another knitting lady. HEr hair was tied up in a neat bun. Her small frame was perched on top of the closed toilet seat. Her hands were busy at work knitting a miniature dress, identical to the bright yellow wool one she was wearing, the only difference was in size.

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh yeah?" I questioned myself, my eyes widening as I realized I didn't really know the true answer and I would fail the fifth grade. She smiled hesitantly at me before standing up and walking out of the bathroom, taking her creation and my voice with her.

Ignoring my many fears, I went to the bathroom as quickly as possible before sprinting back to my seat. I noticed a bright yellow wool dress wearing knitting lady in place of my empty seat. Bubbling with anger, I rushed to find a flight attendant. Seeing one down the aisle, I began angrily stomping towards them. As I was walking, I saw someone typing up a college essay, which only heightened my anger, for I hate college essays. And college and essays in general. Before I could grasp their attention, a voice came over the speakers,

"The plane is crashing. Be careful," the pilot hollered over the intercom. A sudden wave of turbulence came over the plane. I grasped the seats around me, trying to keep myself steady, but the plane's harsh movements were too powerful.

And that was the moment I took one too many graceful steps backward, and fell into a pair of surprisingly muscular arms. I felt a blush crawling to my cheeks, and I whipped my head around to begin what was bound to be the most awkward apology I've ever made. But the words never made it out of my mouth. Because this man, this man who had just prevented my head from splitting in two, had most definitely been a part of my best friend's wildest fantasies. I was staring deep into the emerald green eyes of the teenage phenomenon Harry Styles.

I took a double take, and realized his eyes weren't green, but brown. Wait no, definitely green. Or brown. Or maybe blue? I couldn't tell, but it didn't matter, for my eyes were glued shut and my hands were clutching my ears as the screams of an entire airplane pierced the air.

Author's Note:

Umm we're back

4 votes for the next chapter!!