Blake
"Hello, this is your pilot, Daniel Walker speaking. I'm afraid we do not have enough fuel to land at the John F. Kennedy Airport. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do at the time so please prepare yourselves for a rough landing. Please fasten your seatbelts and lean forward. Thank you!"
Panic and fear took hold of my helpless parents. My father became still, closed his eyes, and mouthed words of prayer. My mother's blue eyes clouded over as if they were reflecting a storm. She turned and hastily buckled the straps of Bailey's safety seat. She gently patted Bailey's three-month-old head; Bailey looked up at her and laughed. My mother smiled at her, almost sadly. She turned to me and started buckling my seatbelt.
My curious seven-year-old eyes glimpsed up at her, "Mommy? Are we in New York City yet?"
Without answering my question, she grasped my chin, and looked me straight in the eye, "Honey, I want you to know, your father and I love you very much."
At that moment, we were jerked downward and screams of terror filled the plane.
BOOM! My head was yanked forward and a sickening crack was emitted from my neck. Bailey began crying hysterically. My mother, having forgotten to fasten her own seatbelt, was flung forward. Her head slammed against the hard wood of the seat in front of her. Blood blossomed from her head and her light brown hair was turning dark red.
"MOMMY!" I screamed.
My father, wasting no time, simultaneously threw me on to his shoulder and picked up Bailey's safety seat. He sprinted towards the front of the plane and handed me and Bailey to a man dressed in a pilot's uniform.
My father bellowed at him, "Get them OUT!"
The man whirled around; allowing me to see a ghastly sight I would never forget.
The back of the plane was ablaze. Anybody who was sitting in the back rows were burned to death. Charred, blackened bodies were everywhere, some blown apart by the force of the explosion. The last thing I saw before the man carried me and Bailey off the plane, was my courageous father, bounding down the aisle toward the flames to save my mother.
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There's No Place Like New York City
Teen FictionThere's no place like home. Holly Maxwell knows this better than anyone else. She's lived in Portland, Oregon for the past twenty-one years of her life. She's been isolated from civilization except for her piano students, and her father, Adrian. But...
