The People On The Plane

✈ Post-script: The People Who Died

Post-script: The People Who Died

JFK International Airport, New York City, New York

22 December 2014. 8:23 PM

“We regret to inform you that Flight 385 coming from Amsterdam has,” the woman’s usually courteous voice hesitates for a moment, “tragically crashed. Our greatest sympathies go to their family and friends.”

The constant chatter ceases and for a few precious seconds, the airport is completely silent, save for the endless hum of the machines and resonance of the announcement. Then a collective intake of breath sounds from almost every single person there. You can hear some people start to sob.

Peter van der Flores is one of the people who didn’t go silent. He didn’t gasp. And he didn’t sob. His eyes stay focused on the script in front of him. He is still murmuring his lines, as though nothing has happened. He remains in that state for a few minutes before he gets and dusts himself. His steps reverberate loudly across the large space where everything is still hushed.

As Peter exits, the cold winds and falling snowflakes nip at his pallid face. The script is now in his pocket, along with his hands, being angrily pushed further inside. He walks to the nearest subway station and gets onto one of the subways.

During his ride, he is still numb, but that numbness is fading. The bumps in the tracks are rattling him nearly as badly as his emergent emotions are. He gets off his stop, biting his lip, willing himself not to cry. He looks down while walking because he feels that if he looks anyone in the eye, he’ll break down, no doubt.

He can hear a few people calling his name but they sound so far away. Maybe they are; but he doesn’t care anyway. And for once, he is thankful for the loneliness not having a roommate provides. Because that way, they can’t see him cry. That way, they can’t see him slide down the door the same way the tears slide down his face. But he makes no sound, other than the occasional sniffle and whimper.

Peter eventually gets up and it seems that the numbness has returned. He swipes a clumsy hand across his face to wipe the tears and heads to the couch. The television is already on.

“ – crash had occurred due to an engine malfunction. It is still unknown what exactly was wrong with engine,” the woman holding the microphone says. “Among the passengers were businesswoman Aspen Klaremonte, Dutch student and aspiring fashion designer Carla van der Flores and world-renown engineer and architect Andrew Davies.

“There have been no survivors found so far, and most likely there are no survivors at all as the plane fell somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic but the exact location of the aircraft are still unknown. Also, according to messages from the captain, all the emergency boats were puncture – “

Peter turns it off. It’s only making things worse. Because he doesn’t want to hear that there’s no way she survived. He doesn’t want to hear that all these people, including his sister, are ninety-nine-point-nine-percent surely dead. He doesn’t want to hear that they are all probably lying at the bottom of the Ocean.

 He doesn’t want to think about how his mother will cry. He doesn’t want to think about how his father will only purse his lips silently and hold his wife. He doesn’t want to think about the funeral. He doesn’t want to think about how it might not even be a proper funeral because they might not be able to find the body.

He wants to think about her laughing all the time about his newly acquired New York accent. He wants to think about her helping him with his lines at 3 AM because the time difference is that horrible. He wants to think about how much she wanted to see the play so he would record practices for her. He wants to think about how she would refuse to watch them because she wanted it to be a surprise. He wants to think about how much he wants to make her proud as he performs.

He wants to think that he’ll be alright.

I was really apprehensive about this but I was like screw it and I'm posting this. And so now, I'm saying thank you all for supporting this story because it's a special one to me and I hope you liked it as much as I did.

Lastly, this is dedicated to Charlie who is amazing and fabulous and talented in everyway and she needs to know it and not deny it because it is obvious as day and because she she is lovely and funny and wonderful and a fantastic writer. Did I mention that she's hella fab?

Anyway. Thank you all so much

- Tasneem