Well...Alright | Buddy Holly

Crash (V.H)

December 23rd, 1959. 1:03am, Idaho Airport

Buddy, Tommy Allsup, Waylon Jennings, and I all tiredly board the small charter plane. We only have the essentials. Dopp kits and a change of clothes.

We had finally completed this recent tour which spanned damn near a month. Both Buddy and I's birthdays were spent on the road this year. His was that 'End Of Summer Dance Party' all through the south. This one was called the 'Festive Bells Tour'. Basically just a tour near Christmas, which spanned in the north western states. Northern California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, a couple stops in northern Nevada, a couple in northern Utah, and one in Wyoming. Our very last show was just played in Boise.

We, Buddy's band, collectively decided to charter a plane to the Denver airport. It was the only place that offered planes right back to Lubbock without multiple hour long layovers. Tommy and Waylon still live down in Lubbock, but Buddy and I are obviously in New York. We're just going to Lubbock for Christmas and through the new year, heading back to New York on January 3rd.

"Welcome aboard, my name's Peter Rodgers and I'll be flying you to Denver tonight," the pilot says, turning around and poking his head out of the cockpit. "Shouldn't be more than a couple hours, maybe less,"

"Thank you so much, sir," Buddy smiles, getting out of his seat and shaking the pilot's hand. "It's real kind of ya t'be on such short notice,"

The pilot smiles. "Thank you. I gotta be on short notice, especially for stars. Lemme say, my wife just adores you lot. Same with my daughter. She's barely five but knows all the words to all your songs,"

Buddy turns a faint shade of pink. "Tell 'em I said thank you for the support," he comes and takes his seat back next to me. This plane has an awkward set up. Two seats side by side on the left and then two seats lined up, one infront of the other. I've been in plenty of planes, and I've never quite seen one like set like this.

I rest my head on Buddy's shoulder and close my eyes. I feel like I'm just about dead. I'm absolutely beat, and no doubt the boys are too.

The plane takes off as usual, but no ones really saying much. I think we all just want to go home and sleep in our own beds, not a hotel. Shower in our own showers and have a few days to just recuperate and relax.

《《《》》》

I suddenly feel my stomach drop hard, jolting me from my doze on Buddy. Something doesn't feel right. It's... it's hitting me right in my gut and my chest.

I glance out the window and suddenly see the ground.

That's when I hear the pilot screaming "SHIT! SHIT COME ON! UP! UP! SHIT!"

I look at Buddy, who seems to also have been alerted of the issue.

We're going down.

"Buddy, Buddy I think we're gonna crash," I say hurriedly.

He doesn't hesitate when he unclicks his seatbelt and wraps himself around me like a safety blanket. "I'm not lettin' you die. I love you so much,"

I start to brace for impact. "I love you so much," I mumble to him. I can only pray that those aren't my last words.

"I love you," Buddy says one last time before the hard impact of the plane hitting the ground, throwing everyone around the now mangled body of it.

It feels like everything stopped and then continued in slow motion. I grasp Buddy so hard I feel my nails ripping the faux leather of his coat. He's gripping me back just as hard, no doubt going to leave bruises. I'm sure I'll have plenty of those if I could make it out of this alive.