Shiver

Chapter 8

Sylvia's POV
I pack up my stuff, anxious to be on a plane again. I hate planes. I hate flying. I hate having to be off the ground. But I love people. I want to be with a person. I want to have that. I am touch-starved. That is a complete and utterly asinine  understatement.

While packing up my stuff, my thoughts wander. They go from topic to topic, idea to idea, never stopping. That's the one thing I can always rely on my brain to do for me. Wander and fill it with ideas, never ceasing. It might make me unable to sleep, but at least I'm entertained while not sleeping. Here is just a brief inside to my brain:

Blue avocado.  Green tomato. Oooh. Tomatoes. Gardens. Dirt. Worms. Spaghetti. Sauce. Tomatoes again. Tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes. Jalapeños. My hamster. My mom. My dad. My dead sister. My brother. A purple shirt. A blue shirt. A green amulet. A pavilion. At night. A pavilion at night while it rains. No, pours. Yes, pours. The rain. The beautiful, sweet smelling rain. A pavilion at night and rain. An umbrella. A red umbrella. A tree. Oxygen. Mars doesn't have oxygen. I want to live on Mars. With oxygen of course. Hair. Doll hair. The sun. The hot sun. I hate the sun. It's hot and I hate it. A car. A silver car. My brother driving a car. He almost died. My sister died in a car. My sister. Poor thing. She was only 22. I'm 22. Fate. Greek mythology. Zeus. Hades. Poseidon. Hermès. Athena. Apollo. Artemis. I want to be a Greek goddess. With swords and magic powers and a banana and stuff.
I'm writing a letter.
I can't write a letter
I'm wearing my green dress.
I wish I were wearing my blue dress.
My blue dress is at the cleaners.
The Germans wore gray.
You wore blue.
The White House
Bush.
Why don't I drive a hybrid car?
I should really drive a hybrid car.
I should really take my bicycle to work.
Bicycle.
Unicycle.
Unitard.
Hockey puck.
Rattlesnake.
Monkey, monkey.
Underpants.

My brain, ladies and gentleman. Of course, the part about the  grey and the blue and the green and the monkeys and the White House and bush and hybrid cars and stuff is from Gilmore Girls, a great show by the way, I totally recommend it.

Anywho, my brain is a messy jumble of random thoughts and gummy bears. And thoughts.

Oh look, I'm all packed.  See? Thoughts with my brain helps pass the time. My brain is interesting don't you think?

I should start a talk show. A podcast. All my random ideas and thoughts jammed into an hour every week. I get to be famous, and I get to talk to people, a big plus.

Let's go to the airport.

*Time skip brought to you by airports. Walking around all day, going through security, racked with  anxiety of course (yes, the author is anxious in security at the airport, it's a long story) and then running to find your gate, even if you still have time. You have to play those dramatic scenes in movies, right?*

I'm on the plane. It's moving. I'm trying not to freak out. It's not working. At all. Time to go into the crazy maze of my thoughts of my brain. That didn't make sense. This is what happens when you have anxiety. You. Don't. Make. Sense.

Tea. Iced tea. I like iced tea. I might order iced tea when the lady comes around with the cart thingy. On the plane. Ewww the plane. Don't think about the plane. Ok. Bananas. I'm allergic to bananas. And pineapple. And cherries. I guess fruit doesn't like me. At all. Anywho. The letter "m". It's such a weird letter. It's like an upside down "w", but with a curly hook thing to start. An utterly weird letter. Another weird letter is "a". I mean, why does it have to start to the alphabet? I mean, why can't "x" start the alphabet? Why didn't the creator of the alphabet think about "x's" feelings, huh? What if "x" wants to be first? I want a sword. They're so pretty. You just go stabby stabby and they're dead. Your cow, your dragon, your strawberry milkshake. Dead if you stab it with a knife. I'm tired. Why am I tired? Everything is getting fuzzy.

Everything goes black.

*Time skip because nobody wants to hear about dreams.*

I wake up, actually feeling refreshed. Who knew that I would feel refreshed after thinking through the worlds questions. I slept. Yay!

I get my carry-on, and walk towards the head of the plane.

"I hope you enjoyed your flight!" The creepily cheery flight attendant says.

"Yes, thank you!"

I walk off the plane, and immediately stop, three people ramming into the back of me.

"Sorry." I say as I move out of the way.

I'm astonished. Like truly not breathing. I am warm.

And it's not like Arizona. I know this is real.

Because the thermometer on the airport wall says 36 degrees. I'm warm. In 36 degree weather. Now I have to find them. I will find them.
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Hello! My second chapter today, and one more might be coming. I'm on a roll. Yay. 
Anywho, comment and vote, and I'm going to try writing another chapter before I crash. Bye!