Black Sunshine

Black Sunshine - Prologue

        "I love you," TJ said to me as he hung up the phone. My boyfriend was coming home to me! He had gone to Cuba on vacation with his family for a week, and I was loosing my marbles without him. He was my best friend - my only real friend. I don't make friends very easily.

        I definitely wasn't one of those annoying clingy girls that you see in the halls at school. In fact, I had been bullied as a kid so I learned to avoid and despise most people from an early age. But when your only other real human contact disappears for a week, all you want to do is be with them. I didn't realize just how lonely I was until TJ left. All I  wanted to do was run up to him, tackle him bear hug style, and give him a big kiss. 

        I checked the time; 10:26. His flight wasn't scheduled to arrive until two. I sighed. I was normally a patient person, but I was way too excited to see TJ. Those teenage hormones just don't leave you alone when you need them to. I couldn't just sit and wait for another four-and-a-half hours.

        I decided to watch a movie to try and help pass the time. Four unbearable hours until I could see my boyfriend. This was going to suck. I stuck 'Bolt' into the DVD player and put a bag of popcorn into the microwave. My mom tells me that I'm way too old to watch these kind of movies, but I don't care. I'm seventeen, almost eighteen,  and I still love movies made for ten-year-olds. 'How to Train your Dragon' is my all-time favourite movie and I can recite almost every word from it. I'm a loser like that.       

         Sitting down on the sofa with my bowl of popcorn, I fast-forwarded through the previews until big glowing letters and a deep, excited voice announced, "And now, your feature presentation!" I lay down and stuffed a handful of popcorn into my mouth. Fifteen minutes into the movie, I was dead to the world.

.....

        Crap! I thought, springing up off the sofa and spilling my popcorn onto the floor. I'm late! It was only 1:32, but it took forty-five minutes to get to the airport, and another half hour to get through security. No no no!

        I shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and ran into my room - or, tried to. I crashed straight in to my bedroom door and smacked my face against it before I realized that it was closed. Tears welled in my eyes and I grabbed my nose, opened the door, and growled in frustration simultaneously. We all know how even the smallest bump on the nose causes tears to swell.

        I opened a drawer in my dresser and pulled out the first pair of jeans my hand came into contact with. I ripped off my pajama pants and struggled into the jeans, freezing in place when I noticed the crimson spots appearing on my shirt. I hit my nose so hard on the door that it was bleeding. I waddled into the bathroom, my jeans only half on, and grabbed some toilet paper, mashing it to my nose.       

        I tried, barely successful, to finish putting on my jeans which were still only up to my thighs, with one hand. I was hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean that had way too much coffee.

        I ran back into my room and grabbed a hoodie, pulling it on over my bloody t-shirt. I already had it on before I realized that it was backwards. "ROOOOAAARR!" I thundered angrily, fixing the sweater while running down the stairs. At least I didn't trip.

        I noticed that my munchkin cat Waddles was devouring the popcorn I had so graciously deposited on the floor for him. He freaked when I ran past, completing a spaztic little flip in the air before zipping out of the room on his inch-long legs, fur standing straight on end. "I hope you get sick, you little freak," I grumbled under my breath.

        I flew to the front door, putting on my Converse as fast as physically possible. However, there was a tiny problem - my left shoe was missing. I frantically searched for the shoe, seriously considering leaving with just the one on, when I remembered where it was. The cat had been playing with it the night before, and had knocked it underneath the couch in his mini-legged fury.

        "I'M GONNA KILL YOU, CAT!" I screamed, sprinting back into the living room. I dived to grab my shoe. I hopped back to the door on one foot, trying to put the shoe on as I went. 

        Throwing open the door, I ran to the car I had only just gotten my full license for, doubling back to the house when I realized I forgot to close the door. I started the engine and backed out of the driveway at top speed... Sort of. I didn't bother to turn the heater on, even though the typical Ontario winter weather at -9 degrees Celsius told me I should. I ignored my shivering.

        By the time I got to the airport, through security, and into the waiting room, I was a whole hour late. Some girlfriend I was. It would have helped if I hadn't gotten a speeding ticket on the way, but...

        I walked to flight 7112's gate and was surprised to see that it hadn't arrived yet. I sat down on the edge of a large fountain in the large hall between the flight gates to wait. I closed my eyes breathed a sigh of relief. Even though I was late, I wasn't... late. If that makes any sense.

                I jumped up as my phone rang, pulling it out of my pocket. I looked at the caller ID, and seeing it was TJ, I did a little jump-for-joy. But as I did that oh-so-slight bounce, I slipped in a puddle, doing a magnificent falling dance and chucking my phone into the fountain in the process. Getting off my sore ass, I grabbed my waterlogged cell  out of the fountain.

        I looked around, and my face grew hot. I may have squealed like a Guinea pig when I slipped, and I may have attracted some attention. People were staring at me, and there was a fat man with a big beard who looked like a perverted Santa Clause holding his belly and laughing so hard that a tear squeezed out of the corner of his eye. I hated attention, but I somehow always attracted it to myself. I felt so humiliated. I bit my lip to try and stop myself from crying.

        Looking at the floor to hide my face, I walked over to a flight attendant by the gate and peered at up at her through my hair. She was pudgy, and was wearing way too much makeup. Like an old prostitute had done her makeup for her. When she saw me, her face, which was already pink from an over-excessive amount of blush, went an even darker shade of red. Great. She had seen my performance.

        As my blush and my frustration grew, I asked curtly, "Where is flight 7112?"

        She was obviously fighting laughter as she choked out, "Um... Delayed."

        Thanks, tips. Tell me something I don't know.

        I stifled an annoyed sigh. Come on, I told myself. I've waited this long, I can wait another hour or two. No problem. Big deal.

        Oh, but what a big deal it really was. After four long hours of waiting, the airport manager came to personally tell the friends and family awaiting the plane to go home. The flight had been detoured to another airport due to bad weather. I was extremely upset, but I decided that there was no use arguing over something unchangeable.

        Luckily, when I got home, there was no more popcorn on the floor, courtesy of the cat. However, unluckily, there were two separate piles of vomit I had to clean, also courtesy of the cat. I guess I got my wish.

        The next morning, I got up, went downstairs, and turned on the TV. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I watched something on the news about a house fire in Brampton and a robbery In Beaverton.

        I was about to change the channel when I heard something interesting: "A missing aircraft was located at around five O'clock this morning."

        My heart stopped. Could that be? I shook my head. Of course not, don't be ridiculous. The manager even said that the plane was at another airport. I decided to get my breakfast, trying to brush off the unnerving feeling in my gut. I tuned out the TV as I grabbed a box of Fruit Loops out of the cupboard. I filled my bowl, and grabbing a spoon, I started to walk over to the sofa. As I sat down, I heard something that changed everything.

        "... Aircraft coming from Cuba. Flight 7112 seemingly got turned off track by bad weather."

        Flight 7112 wast TJ's flight. My spoon froze where it was on it's way to my mouth. What came next made me drop my cereal.

        "It crashed into the ocean a little ways off Florida. Sadly... There were no survivors."