Three hours in, three hours more. Inside this metal death trap called an airplane sits me and three hundred others.
This flight to Ireland had me anxious from the minute I had been told we were taking this trip. I understood that the overall trip would be amazing, but my enthusiasm was masked by evident fear, the fear of flying. It was not necessarily the fear of flying in a plane, as I had done that twice already. Likely, it was the concern of flying over water that terrified me. My fear is described as this: if a plane crashes on land, you will likely die quickly upon impact. Alternatively, if you crash on water, in the middle of the ocean, you are therefore stuck, and will presumably die a slow miserable death from drowning or dehydration. …show more content…
I have now arrived to the point where I have lost the ability to tell dreams from reality. The only constant is the terror I sense in the pit of my stomach.
After I reach the determination that I am indeed awake, my focus drifts back to the window; my hands on autopilot, opening the cover. Again, the only objects visible are clouds, but this time, they are grey and ominous, ready to wreak havoc. A streak of lighting flashes, and the rumble of thunder rocks throughout the plane. I get the sick sense that something is about to go wrong.
I try to force my thoughts on less dark matters, but I fail. With the crashes of lightning and booming thunder getting more intense, I am losing control of my mind and actions. I need to get off this plane. I need to stand, and so I do; I unbuckle my seatbelt and rise. There’s no stopping me now, except the flight attendant storming towards me.
“Ma’am, you need to sit down,” she tells me. “wait until the turbulence subsides.”. I try to respond, staring at her tense expression. Eyebrows furred, eyes squinted, lips clasped into a tight line. I have lost the ability to form words. My voice is trapped, much like I am in this plane. Nowhere to escape. Thoughts are racing in my head, making me
This flight to Ireland had me anxious from the minute I had been told we were taking this trip. I understood that the overall trip would be amazing, but my enthusiasm was masked by evident fear, the fear of flying. It was not necessarily the fear of flying in a plane, as I had done that twice already. Likely, it was the concern of flying over water that terrified me. My fear is described as this: if a plane crashes on land, you will likely die quickly upon impact. Alternatively, if you crash on water, in the middle of the ocean, you are therefore stuck, and will presumably die a slow miserable death from drowning or dehydration. …show more content…
I have now arrived to the point where I have lost the ability to tell dreams from reality. The only constant is the terror I sense in the pit of my stomach.
After I reach the determination that I am indeed awake, my focus drifts back to the window; my hands on autopilot, opening the cover. Again, the only objects visible are clouds, but this time, they are grey and ominous, ready to wreak havoc. A streak of lighting flashes, and the rumble of thunder rocks throughout the plane. I get the sick sense that something is about to go wrong.
I try to force my thoughts on less dark matters, but I fail. With the crashes of lightning and booming thunder getting more intense, I am losing control of my mind and actions. I need to get off this plane. I need to stand, and so I do; I unbuckle my seatbelt and rise. There’s no stopping me now, except the flight attendant storming towards me.
“Ma’am, you need to sit down,” she tells me. “wait until the turbulence subsides.”. I try to respond, staring at her tense expression. Eyebrows furred, eyes squinted, lips clasped into a tight line. I have lost the ability to form words. My voice is trapped, much like I am in this plane. Nowhere to escape. Thoughts are racing in my head, making me