Chapter 29 | Brando

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I scream in pain as my body slams against the wall next to the emergency exit doors. The force of gravity tries to drag me a touch to the left so that I'll fall into the back cabin, where I will surely slam into every seat on my way down.

      My hands, still wet with sweat, manage to stop me from sliding too far along. I try to look around me, to see if I can spot Daxten, but my head is too heavy to lift.

      I can only see a fraction of the cabin. I can see my original seat, where I should be sitting right now. I see the woman next to the window scream. I never asked for her name.

      Oxygen masks fall from the ceiling. My heart breaks when I watch the single mother at the front put one over her screaming baby's face. She looks at me, fear and desperation in her eyes, and I look back, fear and desperation in mine.

      The plane is pointing downward and I already know what's to come. This isn't an air pocket. This isn't a zone of turbulence. We're falling from the sky and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

      Several bags fly past my head from the cabin in front. I move so that my entire back rests against the wall. I watch as everyone in the economy cabin shake in their seats, masses of hair flying in all directions.

      I burst into tears. My worst nightmare is becoming a reality. My life is in the hands of someone else. I feel like a doll for someone else to play with, for someone else to dictate how my life plays out. I can't beg or plead for my life. I have no more cards left to play.

      I mourn for whatever future I could have had. I mourn for the people on this flight who can't fight for their lives right now. I mourn for the people waiting for us at the airport, expecting to see us walk through the doors to carry on with our lives as normal. Nothing will be normal for them. They'll never see us again.

      I feel as though I've barely lived, and when I do start to feel the heartbeat of life, the puppet master cuts my strings. Is it a wicked joke that I would feel the promise of tomorrow on a flight that is doomed to kill me? Is it cruel, and inhumane, that I would fall in love in the sky just to end up at the bottom of the Atlantic?

      The noise of the plane starts to deafen me. The engines, the screaming. I close my eyes and open them again in the hopes of waking up. This is just a terrible dream. It has to come to an end, where I wake up in Daxten's arms, in his suite, landing safely in New York City.

      The plane dips slightly to the right. It feels as though hands are pulling me along, away from the safety of the wall. As if I was on some twisted rollercoaster, the plane moves to the left and forces me along the floor again.


      I hear Nick's voice coming from the bathroom. The door opens half-way and I see some of his face. The plane rolls to the right again and I roll with it, straight towards the bathroom.

      Nick disappears into the darkness and the door slams shut. I have to get away – he can't be the person I die with.

      I allow myself to fall into my cabin, anticipating a connection with some of the seats in the aisle. My head slams against the leg of an empty seat and I try to grab it. It slips from my grasp and I fall.

      Blood pulses against my skin. I can feel it inside of me, moving quickly around my entire body. I feel faint, and weak, but I have to keep moving.

      My soul craves for him, to see him before I go.

      'Daxten?' I shout, but it's useless. Nobody can hear me, not even the couple holding hands in the seats next to me. I want to apologize to them for some reason. I want to help them.

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