24 Hours

The Day Before - 11:00 p.m.

Thanks, Mom. That definitely makes me feel better. If a plane crashes, I'll not only be dead, but I'll also have burst eardrums. I'm telling you, planes are just insurance liabilities.

Cool water poured down my throat. I closed my eyes and tried to go to my 'happy place,' also known as my bed at home. Ah, how wonderful will it be to go to sleep in my soft, warm bed. Even though the bottom of my bed terrified me, the bed itself was a haven. My blankets were like protective clouds that hovered around me. I pulled my blue suit jacket tighter, mimicking a blanket. Just that thought alone quelled my anxieties...until the wheels of the plane made contact with the ground. The cabin bounced in the air with a screech. Don't crash, don't crash, don't crash!

We didn't crash. The plane coasted down the runway. Slowly, the momentum ground to a halt.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have now landed in Richmond, Virginia. We hope you have enjoyed flying with us and will join us again soon."

Air filled my lungs. You made it. You're alive.

I let the realization settle for a moment. Tension fled my body. Okay, I think I'm ready to go now.

I glanced around the cabin. Already, a few people had stood from their seats.

And now for another reason why I hated landing: everyone always made a mad dash off the plane. Areas with extremely high population density were also 'under my bed.' It got so crowded that I could barely get through without being stampeded. If the plane didn't kill me, I was sure that the hoards of passengers would.

I glanced at the person to my left. As usual, I was cursed with the window seat, which meant that trying to exit the plane would be a pain in the neck. Who knew that ninety percent of the people I sat next to turned into sloths as soon as the plane landed!

I turned to the people sitting next to me. On the far left, there was a man in ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Fortunately, he rose from his seat immediately and was one of the first people down the aisle. Now I just had to worry about the brunette who sat next to me. As soon as the plane landed, she had pulled out a mirror from her bag and was staring into it.

Oh, please! Couldn't you have done that before the plane landed? We were on a three-hour trip!

"Excuse me," I said. "Would you mind letting me past you?"

The woman glanced at me for a moment with round, icy blue eyes, reminiscent of marbles. I shrunk back under her stare. She had been giving me these weird looks throughout the flight, or at least, every time I stirred from my nap. She was giving me that same look now, that expression that seemed to say, 'I've seen you before.' The funny thing was that she seemed awfully familiar as well. Something about her oval face, her slender nose, the shape of her eyes—it just seemed like déjà vu.

She cleared her throat. "Certainly," she said in a high-pitched voice.

"Thank you," I said. She stood from her seat, and I slipped past her. I grabbed my carry-on, a simple, black duffle bag from the overhead and waited patiently to exit the plane.

It was—quite literally—a breath of fresh air when I could finally step into the airport. I didn't stop to relish in the moment, however. I headed straight for the baggage claim. It was time for phase three of the reasons I hated flying: trying to find your suitcase in the baggage claim and hoping no one steals it.

"Flight 207 to Richmond, Virginia, pick up your luggage in baggage claim five."

That was me. I searched along the ceiling of the airport for the baggage station I needed to go to. I spotted the glowing sign farther down the hall of the airport. Couldn't they have made the baggage claim be closer to the terminal?