Chapter 7: The Flight

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Alice felt the trembling ground under her feet, as the engins roared with an excessive force. She was staring at the calm night sky, until the picture started to move and her back was pushed violently to her chair. A raindrop slided down the oval, blurred window, leaving a meandering trace behind, exposing her reflection.

The plane was now on air. Seattle was getting smaller and smaller, surronded by fierce clouds engulfing the image, until it finally disappeared.

The plane got to straight line. It was a three hour flight from Seattle to California. Alice had accidently chosen a really pricey, nonstop domestic airline. But Alice's imaginative mind was still flooding above the clouds, blocking it from having such factual concerns. She was able to see the land again, although the blur wouldn't go away. The ominous clouds earned their dense again. Alice watched Seattle disappeare a second time and suddenly felt a griping pang in her stomach. Was it real pain? Or was it just a late feeling of regret...

"Is this your first time flying, Miss?" a raspy voice said next to her. She realized, that an old lady was hopelessly trying to calm her from her internal panic attack.

"No, actually not" said Alice, while looking at the window with now hundrends of raindrop-traces. A thunderstorm intensified the already eerie atmosphere. "It's not flying that I'm afraid of...".

"... but this thunderstorm is giving you the chills" said the old women with a strong British accent, thinking that's what was bothering Alice. If she just new what she was up to.

The lights flickered, just like in a horror movie, leaving a bloodcurdling feeling to the passengers. A baby's wailing cry echoed along the aisle.

Alice glanced over her shoulder to examine the old woman sitting next to her, who was already sinking her teeth into some gratis magazines the passengers were offered at the beginning of the flight. She probably was in her early 70s or at least late 60s. A pair of these vintage, cat-eye glasses you still might encounter at a flea market or an antique shop, were accurately pulled down to the tip of her nose. A look you would expect from a woman that age. Alice blinked with a quivery shake of her head, wondering what in earth could it be, that seemed so familiar about her. Her eyes wandered from the woman's curly hair down to her black, leather heals. Nothing reminded her of someone she knew.

Maybe it was just the desire of being with someone familiar, close enough to trust in her current position.

Alice still couldn't believe, she managed to sneak out of the house, without her parents noticing. Of course, she had left a letter for them. Saying that she'll be fine. That she'll come back soon. That she is going to be safe. She promised them, she'll explain everything, as soon as she comes back. But even if she came back, how would she explain her most rash, immature action.

"Are you sure you're alright, dear?" said the raspy but tender voice next to her. "Come on, just tell me what you are up to".

Alice's eyes opened widely. She turned her head to the old lady, her hair flipping over her shoulder from the sudden reaction. "Are you..." no, it couldn't be her. "Are you Mrs Jackson?"

"I was sure you would recognize me, Alice, darling. Me, you and Grace used to spend a lot of time together. I took care of both of you when you were little. I remember how hard both of your parents used to work, dear. But it was a pleasure to me, you and my granddaughter were great friends. You two never argued. I'm now heading to visit her by the way. "

" Visit, who..." asked Alice, in a concerned tone.

" Your best friend of course! Grace Jackson. "

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