The Last Flight ( girlxgirl / lesbian )

Prologue

I just woke up.

I'm not really sure where I am, or how I got here, all I can say for certain is that I was definitely getting on a plane. I don't remember how long I was out, and I don't know what time it is, my watch broke on the impact. But I am on the cold ground now, it's almost winter, I think, or it is just a place where their weather isn't very severe in the latest months. But I can feel it in my bones, it's almost certainly fall. My vision is blurry, and I can't really see the trees or my surroundings, I'm hoping that will improve along with my obvious concussion.

I can run through the questions that doctors ask after a patient wakes up from a head trauma. I know my name. Magnolia Norbert. I know my profession. Homicide detective for the Los Angeles Police Department. I can't answer to the date as don't know how long I was out; I believe night was just falling upon us when the plane's wheels lifted off of the asphalt. So maybe October thirteenth. The year is twenty-sixteen . I'm at least sure of that.

Both of my parents are deceased, because of me. So I would most likely refrain from talking to any doctor about them, that would probably be a bit too painful to recall. The last person in my small family was a single brother, a twin no less, who is a professional surfer. I have always been quite proud of my ageless brother, he has always had the drive to do whatever he wanted and now he was winning competitions like the U.S. Open. James Norbert. Though we don't always see eye-to-eye, we had stuck together all through our lives, working to be the fantastic people we are today. It seemed that even as full fledged adults we couldn't be less like siblings, as time passed we had both thought that our appearances and personalities would align but alas we were polar opposites.

He has very light blonde hair, the blondest that most have ever seen on an adult, and blue eyes whereas I have mousy, dull brown hair and fairly unusual green eyes that also have a certain muddy dullness to them. The only thing that we had in common was our lanky, tall and slim bodies.

I am certainly in no way good-looking, while he has women following him to the ends of the earth an back, doing flips to just get him to look that them. And that didn't bother him at all. Until he met Mia. Two people in love, they were the perfect couple.

And he was my stability. My anchor. He had always been there for me, in sickness and in health. And there were no documents to be signed; we were together because our blood was so similar. When I came out to my brother, he asked me if that meant that I was going to marry a chick. And when I said yes, his face gained this giant grin, and he practically yelled: "Mom owes me five bucks!" And with that he ran down the stairs laughing, heading towards my mother to collect the money my mother had promised him. The bet had been that I wouldn't come out before high school, an apparently it hadn't mattered anyways as I entered a relationship my father had set up for me with a man. We had been together for five tedious and less that exciting years before he had proposed to me, and I'd felt forced to say yes. So I did much to my fathers pleasure, but that had inevitably ended badly and I decided that it wasn't going to work out–trying to please him while disregarding my own wishes. My father was different from my brother and mother, whilst the latter were accepting, didn't judge, or make me suppress my own feelings; my father had completely ignored it and gone on expecting me to marry a man. Telling me that it was against nature and that I was just going through a phase.

And I had been foolish enough to have believed him.

Finally I was being myself–accepting myself–and not being in my late fathers expectations. Though he was misguided; I know he was just trying to do the best for me and I unconditionally had no problems with his unacceptance.

And I love them all. Correction. Loved them all.