Red

1

The plane jerks in the air making me tense up. I hated plane rides, and the turbulence we have been facing for the past twenty minutes has not helped my anxious mind.

I squeeze my hands together into fists, seeing the whites of my knuckles, and hoping that by digging my nails into my palms the plane would fly smoothly.

I look around the plane to see if anyone else was as nervous as I was, but no one else seemed phased in the slightest. Plenty of people were reading the torn up magazines that the plane provided, some were reading, some had there earbuds in, and there was one group of five boys who were messing around with each other, the ones in the back kicking the backs of the seats of those in front of them and laughing. I'm surprised they were that immature. They looked to be in their twenties.

My sister, Annabelle, who was sitting next to me, was still sleeping. Her mouth was slightly parted and I could hear her slow and steady breathing, which I tried to match with my own, uneven breath.

Annabelle was beautiful, amazing, social, talented; she was basically everything I'm not. Her straight, brown hair and gorgeous, blue eyes were a sharp contrast from my wavy, dirty blond hair and dark brown eyes. She was twenty-one years old, four years older than me, and was my only family member that was still alive.

My mother passed away from heart disease a couple years ago, and my father became so depressed that he ended up taking his life only a few weeks after my mother's death. Some people said my father was a coward, that it was wrong to leave your children alone in the world, but I don't blame any of it on him. I couldn't imagine what he was going through. He always comforted me and my sister, but I don't think we always were there to help him when he needed it the most.

Annabelle and I were heading to Australia. It was our first vacation since our parents' deaths. We saved up the whole year for this, and I was more than excited for it. I couldn't wait to get out of England for an entire week.

I lean back in my seat, trying to relax some more, but nothing seemed to be working. My fears were heightened when the emergency light turns on above me.

The pilot buzzes in through the speaker. "Please proceed to put on your air masks," he says, trying to remain calm for the sake of the passengers who all look startled now, even those immature boys.

The flight attendants come walking through and assisting anyone who is struggling with their mask, specifically the very old and the children.

"Annabelle, Annabelle, wake up," I say frightened as I shake her shoulder and pull down both of our air masks from the top of the plane.

She opens her eyes and looks around. "What's happening, Tris?" She asks me. She seemed petrified like everyone else.

"I think we're crashing," I say, my voice cracking at the end. I didn't want to die, and more importantly, I didn't want Annabelle to die.

She grabs her mask and we start putting them on. My breathing gets heavy, another anxiety attack, probably. I take medicine for my anxiety, but I forgot to take it this morning as it was already packed in my bag.

"It's, okay, Tris. We're going to be okay," my sister attempts to comfort me, her voice muffled from the mask. But her nervous voice did nothing to calm me down right now.

The flight attendants start speaking loudly, telling everyone to lean down and cover the back of their head with their hands. Annabelle and I do as we are told. I could feel my hands shaking on the back of my head and tears were falling from my eyes.

The sound of the plane cutting through the air got louder and louder. "Annabelle!" I yell, hoping she could hear me, but I doubt she could. "I love you so much!"

It all seemed unreal, like something out of a movie. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the crash which hits quicker than I expect.

My head, covered by my hands, bounces onto something, I'm assuming the back of the seat in front of me, and then bounces to the back of my seat.

I hear ringing in my ears and I slowly open my eyes, preparing to see the damage that has been done.

I look over at Annabelle and immediately grow fearful again. Her eyes were still closed as she leaned back on her seat and she looked pale.

I unfasten my seatbelt and move closer to her, grabbing her face and shaking her slightly. "Annabelle?" My voice was weak.

There was no response.

"Annabelle!" I say louder, pounding my fist into her seat. "Wake up!"

Tears begin to form in my eyes again and I realize how loud it was. Only, this time, it wasn't the plane, it was people screaming at their loved ones, telling them to wake up, even though most of them never will.

Annabelle will wake up, though. Right?

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," I say, each time getting louder and louder. Each time I realize even more that she isn't going to wake up.

I let out a loud sob and fall to the floor. My breath becomes shaky again as I realize I'm all alone. Another panic attack was setting in. And, now, I know exactly how my dad felt when Mom passed. Exactly how hopeless he felt.

Time seemed to stop. I don't know how long I sat there and how long everyone else was also grieving, but someone eventually speaks up.

"Radio is dead... we're going to be here a while," the voice says. I look up and see one of those boys who was sitting near me. "Another plane crashed next to us. I guess we hit each other," he shrugs it off and looks around at the disaster that was our plane.

The boy's eyes landed on me and he look at me with a blank face for a few seconds before turning away and walking off the plane.