Seven/Eleven

1. Zoe Murphy

We had just made it trough security. To my parents surprise, my brother wasn't carrying anything illegal (like drugs). I wasn't surprised, I mean it is my job to know my sibling like the back of my hand, right? "C'mon, we're gonna miss our flight!", called my mom, Cynthia, as we ran towards gate B7. In one hand I was gripping my passport and my boarding pass, and in the other, I had a notebook and a chocolate bar that I had purchased at a vending machine. The last thing I wanted was to do was drop something and have to run back and get it. To my (not) luck, I dropped my notebook and it laded face-down, open. I turned to get it, but my brother, Connor, picked it up and handed it to me in, like, three seconds. Tall ass! "Thanks," I whispered as we walked up to the boarding line at gate B7. "You're welcome," Connor said back, out of breath.

The plane was small for an international flight. I mean, the ride was only four hours or something, although it was late in the day. I took a seat next to a window and stared out of it. The blue sky was turning orange as the sun set. More people got on the flight, and after a long time, the plane started rolling to the runway. "Hello," said the voice on the speaker, "I am your pilot, Jason Dean, and I would like to go over in-flight safety before departure. If you need anything, ask your flight attendant..." I stopped listening there. It's always the same shit, life vests under your seat, help open the side doors if you're by them, blah blah blah. Can't we just get GOING!?! "Thank you, enjoy your flight," said a female voice, after the pilot was done with his announcements. The plane moved on to the runway. It went faster. Faster. Faster. We were in the air.

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"Would you like anything?" I'm assuming the flight attendant asked, when Connor poked my shoulder. "Oh... Oh! Yeah. I would like... Mountain Dew, please" (a/n: IT'S FROM JAPAN, IT'S A GRAY OBLONG PILL i'll stop there) As the flight attendant poured the clear, fizzy liquid I rubbed my shoulder where my brother had poked me. "What'd you do that for?" I asked him. "You couldn't hear anything. Your music was up so loud, I could hear it. Hamilton, I'm guessing," said Connor. "Oh, yeah. I love that soundtrack," I said as the attendant handed me my soda. "Thank you," I said. "You're welcome," she responded, and left down the aisle of the plane.

"We'll be experiencing some minor turbulence in a minute so hold tight. I advise using the bathroom now if you must," said the female voice from the speaker. I stood up. We'd only been on the flight for just over an hour, and I had to use the bathroom. To be fair, we were kinda rushed at the airport when we had to check our skis and snowboards. Every year, we went on a ski trip. This year was no different. Even though it was Connor's senior year and we both had a mountain of homework, we both agreed that it would be better spending  our winter break up north snowboarding than writing essays and that shit. 

Just then, I jumped in my seat. I had just returned from the bathroom when the airplane began spiraling out of control. Up and down. Over and over again. Some guy behind me shouted "Minor!" and the female pilot said "Hold on". That's exactly what I did. I grabbed Connor's arm and he grabbed mine as the plane struggled through the choppy air. I immediately felt bad for the people in the back of the jet, who had it worse than us fancy humans in the front. Somebody screamed. One guy cheered. Others were confused, but most of us were... Terrified. "We're going... we'll have to go a little off track to... not die," said the female pilot, trying to sound as less panicked as possible. The plane took a sharp turn to the east, although the air condition did not improve. Suddenly, everybody lurched forward. 

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"I'm... Really sorry," said the pilot called Jason Dean. I dared to look out my window as the plane headed towards the Earth. For a second there, I was afraid we would land in the ocean. I mean, the island that saved us had to be really small to scare me like that. "You okay?" My brother asked. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said, the minute after our plane had crashed. "Kids, are you okay?" Asked my dad, Larry. "Phisically, yes. Mentally, no," said Connor, standing up and brushing off his sweatshirt. "Connor, honey-" said mom. "Sorry," he said in the most irritated tone possible. Light chatter floated over the plane. "You okay"s and "Yeah, how're you"s drifted in the air. "Can we GET OFF THE PLANE," shouted a guy from the back of the jet. "Oh, God," said the girl a few seats ahead of him. "Look, we've just crashed in an unidentified island off the coast of Canada, in the Atlantic ocean," said the female pilot, "And you're gonna need to be patient and let the engineers and pilots handle this, but I swear, by tomorrow we'll have the radi- radiator fixed," yeah, she was gonna say radio. She's trying not to panic us, but none of the humans (or service dog (yes, I saw one)) on that flight could get much worse. "The only thing we can do is hold still," said Larry, and fuck, I hope he's correct.

The sky was pitch black outside my window. I checked the time. 9:07. Great. We'd been on this plane for thirty minutes without moving. I continued turning my phone on and off, seeing if the clock could move any slower. We were allowed to move around at 9:11. At 10:01, they brought out more snacks: Pretzels, cookies, and trail mix. More soft drinks and oreos and pringles. I ate all the oreos I could, and Connor downed an entire bottle of coke trough plastic cup size servings. At 10:59, they brought out the tiny bottles of alcohol as to not let the adults go insane. The same guy who cheered as the plane crashed and yelled "can we get of the plane" got into a fight with the flight attendant for not serving him alcohol. In the attendants defense, he was underage, but in the end gave in and got him a small serving of beer. At 11:07, Dean made an announcement from the cockpit.