Weaving Dreams

Chapter One : Damsel in Distress.

I scrolled through my phones gallery for the umpteenth time today. I so didn't want to leave everybody and go. But they wouldn't budge. Says I've done enough damage already. Duh.

Two days of arguing had just worsened it, now that I actually think of it.

The announcement came again for passengers for New York to move towards Gate 4 & this time I finally got up and went.

Seeing the long queue I turned towards a nearby store and stared at its cooler for a while. I wasn't hungry now, but because its me, I decided to buy something and keep, just in case the food they give in the flight wasn't good.

After mentally arguing with myself on what to buy, I finally settled for a plain cheese sandwich. By the time I billed it and put it carefully inside my bag, the queue had reduced and so I got in without much of a wait.

Barely 10 minutes later the bus came to take us. I pulled my cardigan closer to my body, let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and stood up taking my bag with me. I was going for my first ever flight, alone and the best part - this was the trip that was going to change my life. Forever. 

And that was what I hated the most about it. Well, most of all that happened actually.

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I was finally settled in my seat, gazing out of my window. I was scared of heights, but I definitely didn't want to miss the view and so insisted on the window seat. My dad says I was whining like a 5-year-old, but obviously he was exaggerating.

People passed beside me in a blur while I was consumed by own thoughts. Until it rained. 

Inside the plane. 

Orange flavored rainwater. 

And that too specifically on me.

I shot up from my seat and immediately my head hit on the roof. Damn my height.

I heard somebody shout an "Oh My God!' somewhere really close to me followed by an extremely dramatic gasp.

I fell back onto my seat and pulled the part of my cardigan that was wet away from my top. I looked beside and saw my personal rainwater supplier standing like a statue.

Red sneakers with one untied lace and the other stuffed into the shoe, one bag hanging on an elbow with an open orange juice bottle in hand, one hand held forward as if in apology, a yellow T-shirt with a toy story designed jean jacket above, one bag hanging behind, a blue cap worn backwards, headphones on and face with complete shock, his brown eyes wide. And he stood as if someone had told him statue. 

A sight to see. He quickly regained his senses and pulled back his bottle & shut it. He somehow put it back into the bag on elbow and stared back at me, all in 4 seconds. Reason why the bag was still open and the bottle in a dangerous position by its edge.

"I'm soooo sorry. I really didn't mean to........I'm so very sorry....I...I tripped on my foot.....I'm so.....sorry." he looked at me helplessly while I kept my frown steady on my face.

As if his waterfall, gasping and exclamations wasn't enough now he was shouting apologies at me.

Suddenly his eyes lit up as if he had discovered something. he pointed a finger at me before saying  "Tissues! I'll get you tissues. And water. I'll get you both. Or even better, I'll take you to the washroom." he snapped his fingers in front of my face grinning widely. I raised a brow at his last suggestion and his eyes went wide again in realization.