Lonely People

To Hamburg

Humans have always wanted to fly. Something about leaving the ground we are rooted to fascinated them. They wanted to soar high above the clouds and leave the constructs of the ground. All humans want to fly.

Except for me.

As I see it, there is a reason we weren't born with wings. We are supposed to stay on the ground. Our feet are roots, and roots cannot leave the dirt. It's unnatural and terrifying all at the same time. Humans exist specifically to defy nature, the airplane is simply an example. 

The airport loomed over me like a reaper deciding my fate. People filed in and out, chatting amongst themselves. They weren't scared, most had done this before. Only I stood frozen, looking at the building with knocking knees and a jumping heart. 

We were just getting out of the cab that brought us here. While the lads got their luggage, I stared at the airport, one hand clutching my backpack and the other clutching my tiny suitcase. Every part of me shook and I could slowly feel the blood draining from my body. 

"Alright, lads," John said as soon as we were all out of the cab, "Our plane leaves in an hour. We better get in there."

He lead the group into the airport. I tailed behind, doing my best to control my fear. Paul glanced back at me and said, "Come on, Lia, we don't want to be late."

"I'm coming."

I sped up a bit. Paul, being as oblivious as he always was, couldn't see the paralyzing fear I felt. At that point, it wasn't at it's worse. We still had to get through security and all before we could actually get on the plane. As soon as the plane came in sight, however, I wasn't sure how I would react. I could already feel my muscles beginning to seize and my breathing speeding up. 

As soon as we dropped our luggage off, we all got in the security line. It was separated into four different lines for four different security officers. Paul and John went in one, Stuart went in another, and George and I were completely separated from the group. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea, having the two youngest members who had to lie on their visas be separated from the others.

"Are you alright, Melly?" George asked.

I shook my head, "Not really."

"What's wrong?" George knitted his eyebrows in concern, "Are you sick?"

"No-no. I'm just-I don't know-I'm not too keen on heights."

That's the best way I could think of telling him without admitting that I was so scared I felt like throwing up. George was always good with emotions, he could see it in others and identify them in himself. He was also great at comforting those around him. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and smiled, "It's not that bad. It's just like riding in a car, expect your ears pop a few times."

"A car that flies several thousand feet above ground," I replied, "We'll basically be a flying can of sardines."

"I wouldn't say sardines."

"Fine, canned peaches, those taste better."

George shrugged, "Planes aren't as claustrophobic as you think, especially if you have a window seat."

"God, no, I don't want to see the ground disappear below me."

"It only disappears when the clouds cover it," George replied, "Honestly, Melly, there's nothing to be afraid of."

There were only three people left in front of us. Stuart had already made it through and was waiting for us on the other side. A loud roar came from a nearby window, causing me to jump slightly. A plane was taking off just yards from us. I grabbed George's arm, trying to keep the tears from falling.