I'm almost me again (She's almost you)

Chapter 1

Shifting into the soft leather seat in First Class, Lisa swirled the amber scotch around in her glass, staring down at the mesmerising whirlpool as the plane hummed beneath her. They'd been in the air for three hours already, the air crisp with the pressurised oxygen running through the cabin, and she was pale and rigid in her seat, slender fingers tightly gripping the plastic cup as they raced past puffy white clouds with such unhurried gentleness that one could almost mistake the breakneck speed for drifting slowly with the breeze.

Outside, the sky was crystalline blue and she stared through the small oval, finding castles and spires in the marshmallow clouds, wondering what it would be like to sink through them, to fall through the freezing vapour and tumble down to the emptiness below. They were already flying over the North Atlantic Ocean, and she could imagine the wreathing grey mass beneath her. It would hurt, falling from so high. Not that she'd survive the fall, but it was almost a peaceful thought, to imagine falling uncontrollably until heaving white-capped waves gently took her into the arms of the ocean. Lisa imagined the freezing cold of the sea would feel much like the numbness pinning her to her seat at that moment.

And she was so numb that she could hardly feel a thing. The only thing that registered to her was the searing heat of the scotch as she drained two within the first hour, after the customary glass of champagne that came with the luxury of her seat. She'd barely even heard the flight attendant when she'd spoken to her, had senselessly mumbled something in reply before requesting her scotch, and had been frozen to her seat ever since. She didn't even realise she was shivering, her teeth chattering through numb, parted lips as she stared at the blank screen of the complementary TV, the soft cotton blanket provided going ignored.

Instead, Lisa was utterly and completely consumed by the yawning blackness that had opened up inside her chest. She felt completely hollow. Completely empty. It was like she'd been drained of any feeling with just a few short words and a broken heart, the capacity to process it having been snatched away from her as she was assaulted by unimaginable pain. Never in her life had she thought it was possible for something to hurt so much.

It had hurt more than anything had any right to, so she'd done the only thing that she could do and driven straight to the airport and booked the next flight leaving Busan. It was bound for Inverness, a city up in the Scottish Highlands, the northernmost city in the UK. There was a short layover in London along the way, which would've been a more practical choice under normal circumstances, but she'd been looking for an escape. Somewhere far away from anything that could cause her any modicum of pain, and Inverness had seemed like a great idea as she'd handed over her passport with a shaky hand and bought a First Class ticket with British Airways.

She had no luggage to check. Nothing but her purse, a broken Cartier Tank wristwatch, one of the early models, and a folded photograph stuffed into the pocket of her suit jacket. With her plane ticket gripped tightly in her hand, she made her way through security and to the nearest airport bar, sat down at a stool and ordered a drink. Three drinks later, in rapid succession, her flight was being called and she made her way to her gate.

Two hours into the first leg of her trip, and she could barely fathom a thought. All she knew was that she hurt, and the more she drank, the less it hurt. She filled that hollowness inside her with alcohol and it burned her up from the inside, but not nearly enough to take away the impenetrable coldness that had settled in her heart. Lisa didn't think she'd ever feel warm again.

At some point, she drifted off. Not quite to sleep, but no longer entirely conscious of her surroundings. Her vision came in and out of focus, sounds whispered in the background, and she held on tightly to the empty plastic cup, her fingers stiff and her fingernails slightly purple from her poor circulation ten thousand feet in the air. It wasn't until the captain announced their descent into London that she stirred, blinking herself back to wakefulness as her wandering mind tethered itself back to her body.