Last Flight Home [completed]

✈ i.

[ LOCAL TIME 10:58 ]

Latte in hand, the only sound that fills my ears is the sound of the hard, rubberized heels of my boot wedges as they click against the tiled floor of the airport. Looking in every direction, I find myself consumed in counting the gates as I pass by in an attempt to find the one leaving for New York City, which was the last flight out of San Fransisco until after the holiday.

In my spare hand I glance down at my ticket, which had my flight boarding at Gate 43.

The continuous sound of my heels clicking against the tiled floor of the airport as I run from gate to gate in an effort to find where my flight is boarding was reminding me how bad of an idea it was to look nice and dress decent for today. If it wasn't for the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I probably would've collapsed about three-hundred feet ago, but that's just because I've gotten an average of three hours of sleep the past few nights from finals.

CALLING ALL PASSENGERS FOR FLIGHT #5839 WITH NON-STOP SERVICE FROM SAN FRANCISCO TO NEW YORK CITY. START BOARDING AT GATE 56

Confused, I look down at my ticket and wonder why the gates don't match up. As if to ensure myself in an effort to avoid a complete state of panic, I wave the thought away and remind myself that flight schedules change all the time and that maybe they swapped the boarding gate last minute.

When I finally arrive at Gate 56, which had a massive amount of people trying to squeeze through a small space to get their tickets scanned, I take the nearest empty seat and just breathe for a moment. If it could've gone wrong, it's gone wrong today. The sudden drop in temperature proved to be problematic for my car, which didn't want to start this morning. The fact that is one the busiest travel days didn't help my chances of getting a taxi to the airport from downtown. As if that wasn't bad enough, I spilt coffee all over my white shirt as I walked into the airport, which not only burnt my skin but was miserable to stand in as I went through security check-points.

All that aside, after being able to change into a comfortable over-sized sweater and having the opportunity to grab another latte before the long flight, I could say that I was content with how today has played out. I mean, as long as I get home in time to see my family for Christmas, all of this will be worth it.

When I look up from examining my plane ticket, I see that the line that once surrounded the boarding gate has simmered down to only a few people. Once again, I collect all of my belongings, which was just my carry-on bag and purse, and walk towards the gate and hand my ticket to the female flight attendant.

Confused, she hands the ticket back to me.

"What's wrong?" My voice shakes as it comes out from behind my lips.

"The flight to Boston is boarding at Gate 43 at three o'clock," She says in a calm voice as she points in the direction I came from on my way over here.

"I'm not flying to Boston,"I start, handing her back the ticket. "I'm on my way home to New York City."

She shakes her head. "Your ticket says Boston and this flight has been full for weeks now. I'm sorry, I really am."

Before I can get another word out, the flight attendant disappears into the tunnel that connects the airport to the plane. For a moment, I just stand there and look at the closed gate before me and literally feel my heart break underneath my rib cage.

[- ✈ -]

"The earliest flight I can get you on that flies directly to New York City is for the morning of the 26th," A male flight attendant says as his fingers type away on the computer.

"I need to be there tonight," I reply, using the counter of the help desk to lean against so I can get some weight off of my tired feet.

The guy, who examines my ticket in his hands, continues typing on the computer. Deciding that the little clicks of the keyboard were toying with my anxiety, I decide to look around the airport and quickly place the food court. The smell of pizza dripping with pepperoni grease was enough to make me hungry, and the sight of a small ice cream inlet wasn't helping much either.

"How about you get on your flight to Boston and then you get another flight from there to New York City?" The male flight attendant suggests as he hands me back my ticket.

Nodding, I quickly smile, but that faded when I think about how much extra it's going to cost to get another flight.

"How much is that going to cost?" I question.

"Uh," He stumbles as he pushes his thick black glasses up against the bridge of his nose. Once again, he starts to type away on his computer.

"For an extra $231 you can get there tomorrow morning."

I glance down at my ticket, which has the flight to Boston boarding at two o'clock, and then up to a clock that reads noon. "If that flight isn't completely booked, I'd like to have some time to think about it," I explain.

The guy nods and I thank him for everything and take off, eyeing the food court as I pass. Knowing that I have to go back upstairs anyway, I go back the way I came and stand in front of the elevator with only one other person, who was so engulfed in his phone that I couldn't even see his face. In all honesty, I don't even blame him.

The elevator clicks and guy pushes his way in front of me so he can get in the elevator first. Not that I believe in guys being complete gentlemen all the time, but I do believe that there is some common courtesy that comes from not aggressively pushing your way into the elevator regardless of a person's gender.

After I step inside and click the third floor as my destination, I watch the elevator doors close on the scene of the busy airport and then to the guy, who quickly types away on his phone with earbuds in his ears. Instead of looking awkwardly around the elevator, I close my eyes and try to make a decision about the Boston to New York flight, something I couldn't really afford right now. Sure, I have the money to do it, but I was going to use that money for Christmas presents that I was going to buy when everything goes on sale.

When I open my eyes, I'm greeted with the same bright elevator as it slowly climbs up to the different floors. Right as the number changes to three, the elevator powers down and the lights flicker and then turn all the way off. The initial elevator shaft shifts, which sends me flying to the floor against a wall. Somewhere in all of this, I know I screamed, but I doubt anyone heard it.

And if today couldn't have gotten worse, I'm stuck in an elevator at the airport.

[- ✈ -]