I N S O M N I A C

[[ I ]] Do You Live In An Igloo?

Chapter One: Do You Live in an Igloo?

[[ Allie ]]

As I lounged in one of the Starbucks café tables, a wave of nausea swept over me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly to block out the pain desperately. I leaned my head down until it came into contact with my forearm; squinting my eyes to stare at the synthetic material of the table that resembled wood. My eyes scanned the cheap patterning while I tried to urge the pain to go away. Anticipation clenched my gut as I refrained from gasping in pain. I wasn’t exactly afraid of going to the Bronx, but I was nervous for sure. Coming from Seward, Alaska which had only a little more than two thousand citizens and everybody knew everybody, the large city was a major change of scenery for me, but it was also welcomed. We were basically secluded from the real world. The first time I had ever seen a McDonalds was at this very airport.

There was a crackle above me and my body twitched in surprise as I waited for what it had to say. “Fairbanks to Denver, head to Terminal C to board now!” a male voice said before the crackling noise left. I stood up in reluctance, not wanting to leave the warmth of the coffee shop to face the numerous crowds of Fairbanks Airport. Snatching my purse up from where it sat on the table and grabbing the handle of my suitcase, I clutched my hand at my stomach as I exited the little outlet and entered the steady stream of people heading for Terminal C.

I dropped my luggage off on the little conveyor belt and watched the bags slowly exit from view, turning around a corner, and I held my carry-on baggage and my purse near me. Turning away from the drop-off area, I approached the boarding tunnel and handed the ticket to the lady absentmindedly before entering the temporary tunnel they had set up that connected the building to the plane. I sighed, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before I started to walk into the tunnel, knowing there was no turning back now.

The plastic tunnel walls slowly filled with people as we waited for the door to open from inside the plane. It did after only a couple minutes and a flight attendant welcomed us in, her smile too large and bright to be genuine. I walked past her and looking for the seat I had long ago memorized. I scanned the rows of seats before finding mine. It was a window seat. I was going to die on this flight. Heights terrorized me to no end. I ducked my head and shuffled to the seat, entering the empty row. Hopefully it would remain this vacant, though the reality that it would was small.

Leaning back against the firm chair, I unzipped my carry-on bag and took out my phone and laptop. I had made sure to charge them both at the Starbucks. Turning my phone on, I quickly tapped in my passcode. 1202. My birthday. It would be an easy hack for anyone who knew my birthday, but I hadn’t lost my phone as of yet, and I was careful not to since I wouldn’t have any money left to buy another one. The furniture I had looked at online that would be coming in a couple days and buying the new apartment had completely drained me of any money I still had left, which wasn’t much.

Finding a job as a writer would be difficult in New York, but I still had a chance. After all, many great publishers have their main offices in New York, which ultimately made my decision to move there. I tapped on the music icon and selected my favorite playlist. Immediately, All Time Low started to blast into my ears and I closed my eyes as I started to relax to the beat.

For the thrill of your touch

I will shamefully lust

As you tell me

We’re nothing but trouble

I let my head turn a little so it rested gently on the window of the plane. Feeling the plane jerk and the faint voice of the captain over the roar of my music, I grasped tightly onto the armrests and opened my eyes slightly to peer at whoever was next to me, but there was no one there. The adjacent seat, however, had a burly man in a business suit and I was glad for the distance of the empty seat.