We were only kids

Learning to meet new people

My eyes sting as I finally manage to crack them open. It's not pitch black but I really can't see through the dim light.

There's a dull pain that rolls down my head and through my spine. I don't know how long I've been out, but I've been awake for a while, just in too much pain to try and move yet. The air is quite still, but my face is much colder than the rest of my body. I wiggle my fingers and feel around the heavy blanket that's over my body. It's a thick felt like material and it's quite warm. Thankfully not as warm as that car trunk.

So, what changed? It's a big jump from trying to kill me in the trunk of a car to laying me down in the back seat. I think this is a backseat, but it doesn't sound like one. That, or I can't hear correctly. I don't really hear anything. Maybe a little buzz or a rumbling, but not of a car.

The seat —or whatever I'm laying on— feels like a row of car seats. All leather and stitching, and I might be lying on a buckle or two. It's kinda hard to tell lying down.

Reluctantly, I push myself up on my hands and sway a bit, waiting for my head to stop spinning and catch up with my body. I thought my head hurt from hitting the ground so hard, but looking around now I'm not so sure. When I can finally hold myself up I reach up and pinch my nose. Trying to push the pressure from my ears makes them pop and I can hear the buzzing just a little bit louder. I'm on an airplane. It's hard to see around the dark cabin but the strips of dim lights give me just enough to see the outline of the furniture and seats. This is a nice airplane.

I probably shouldn't be the one to decide what's a nice airplane —because I've never been on one— but last time I checked airlines didn't have tables or couches of seats. Flipping back to the wall I reach for the oval outline that's over the seat and push up on the little sliding cover. It's a window, and from the looks of the sky it's either getting early or late. Probably early, it was already so late at the game.

Shutting the window I try to find my legs and stand, but I have to collect myself first. Even after popping my ears my head still hurts. The rest of my body aches from the washed off adrenaline that wasted my body earlier. I did all that running for nothing! All that damn running just to be handed over by the last person I had to help me, and to end up on some fancy plane— are they going to push me out to kill me?— surely that isn't right! There's much cheaper ways to kill somebody. Although, this cabin screams money.

A door at the far end of the cabin erupts with deep laughter. It's sickening to listen to. I've never liked raspy voices —it's why I don't listen to certain music or hang around smokers anymore— but whoever is laughing sounds like he needs a cough drop.

Carefully stumbling around on my feet I follow the sound and head to the door. There's not much worse that can happen to me now might as well tell someone to shut up. Maybe they'll kill me quicker.

The handle on the door is light and slides right open— I've never heard a conversation come to such a quick halt. My body is stuck in so much shock and stress that I just stare blankly at the numerous faces in the cockpit. By numerous, I mean three. One of which is a pilot who barely passes me a glance before he turns back to the steering column.

"Well, good morning sunshine." A fat bastard of a man smiles at me and I hold back the urge to gag at his face. There's nothing necessarily wrong with his face it's just so... gag worthy. He looks stalky, if he stood up we'd probably be the same height. His smile is accompanied by a gold tooth filler and another tooth missing on his top row of teeth. All his features are heavy and fat, like some fat stupid man who kidnaps teenagers who do nothing.

He holds his hand out like he's expecting me to shake it, but I stare at him wide eyed and about ready to spit on him. That's not good enough for him because he snatches my hand for me and drags me closer to him before I can pry away and back a little out the door. His hands feel nasty.