WAZOBIA: A Tale of Two worlds

Seven

Luckily, the co-pilot wasn't lying on the floor unconscious after being stabbed by me so we were good. Apparently, someone did know first aid on the plane and could assist my brother's friend.

I went to the cockpit and sat beside the new pilot.

"You know the route huh?"

"Pretty sure"

"Good. We take off now"

"Now?"

"Now"

He put the plane in gear and began to drive.
I nodded and left the cockpit.

"How is he?" I asked the woman who was currently sitting on my seat, squatting beside her.

"He'll be okay, I just wanna know what exactly happened to him." She was curious

"That's not anyone's business right now, we just need him to be okay." I stood up.

"Understand that?"

"Y...yes"

I looked into her trembling eyes and suppressed a grin. Of course now she knew I was the one who stabbed him. I moaned a plead for forgiveness to Christ as I realised that I actually elicited pleasure from watching the trembling woman.

"Is everyone okay?!" I shouted

A bunch of muffled 'yeah's proceeded and then the usual groans.

"Good, we're off now. Hopefully, we'll reach our destination safe enough"

-

Three hours passed and I was still in the cockpit, mostly because I was scared that I had killed the pilot.

Being a military student, I was used to these kind of reflexes, but usually, my friends had protective gear. This was a direct hit.

I finally decided to woman up and check on the guy, silently praying he was okay.

"Where are you going?" The co pilot asked when I stood up.

I could tell he was very nervous; according to him he had never flown the plane without his boss before.

"To go check the back"

He nodded and I left.

Immediately I stepped out of the cockpit, the concussion smells of cocaine, marijuana and raw tobacco hit my nose.

I sniffed; which was probably a bad idea.
There were a lot of drug dealers here; I saw some stuffing different colored substances into three bags.

I decided to look the other way. Very wrong decision might I add.

A gruesome looking man was examining his gun. I stared at him unconsciously until I noticed he was about to see me and turned sharply around.

I shuddered once more, wondering if it was safe to have a gun on a plane, he could be a hijacker, I thought.

Then my conscience suddenly took a guilt trip to the devil - me.

I couldn't believe I was standing there, being hypocritical and judging this man who was probably more innocent than me when I had twenty daggers,an AK-47 in my bag and a licensed gun belonging to the American government in my pocket.