“Okay honey, it’s your first time on a plane!” my mother cooed me. I was five then so I didn’t hate it entirely. “I’m ready Mommy!” I said. We sat in section… 1A and 1B.
My mother was overly excited for the both of us because it was also her first time on a plane.
After takeoff, my mother spotted San Diego, which was the wrong direction. We were going to visit my grandparents in Michigan. It felt like the plane was dropping all of a sudden.
“Mommy, are we going to land now?” I asked. “I’m going to go talk to the pilot honey. I’ll be right back.” My mother never came back.
Soon after, the plane began to tip forward more and more. There were people screaming saying, “It’s a terrorist!” I knew what that word meant.
I began to worry for myself and the others in the plane. I knew I was to die a quick death. I couldn’t even look out the window knowing that I would be a dead child. I decided to push all the negative thoughts out, but behind them were even more negative thoughts.
In a blink of an eye we suddenly crashed into the earth with a giant jerk. I felt my head bleeding and cuts everywhere.
Then, I figured out I was a loner now. I was alive, but alone.
I searched everywhere in the remains of the plane, but no one was alive.
I could tell I had a concussion because I felt the blood on the back of my head. After that, I was out cold. Next thing I knew I was washed up on a beach. I felt I wasn’t alone.