The Makeshift Family
Mickaela: Crash
Plane crashes happen to other people. It happens to those strangers you pass by in the street and never take a second look at. They're always those terrified people on the news. The pictures from the crashes are surreal, like a dream, like a movie. The crimson blood soaks the clothes of the corpses. Flames dance on the metal debris scattered throughout the crash site. Tears run down the faces of the survivors. Some of the people stare blankly into the wreckage of the crash.
I am not supposed to be here.
Just a few hours ago I was skipping through the airport with my best friend and cousin like we were little children.
"Mickaela!" My mother shouts. "Calm down. You are embarrassing us!"
My best friend, Andrea, and I burst into laughter. Cole, my cousin, smiles.
"Sorry Ma," I say. "The caffeine you gave us must really have worked."
Mom shakes her head regretfully as she walks beside us. The flight from Australia to Los Angeles requires us to pass through a ton of time zones, so my parents gave us caffeine to keep our bodies in check. I've never really understood it.
My dad and little sister Daisy catch up to us. Daisy, my seven year old sister, runs to Cole and jumps on his back. Sometimes it bugs me that she loves him more than me. I am her sister after all. But I'm glad there's someone that Cole can protect.
Dad, ever the cameraman, ushers everyone together for the last family photo of the vacation. Andrea and Cole, as usual, try to sneak out of the frame. Thank goodness Mom catches them and says, "When I say family photo, I mean the whole family. Get in here."
Little did any of us know that it would be our last family portrait.
Boarding the plane is a hassle, but then again it always is. My family and I have to spilt up the seats. We have to sit three and three. Andrea, Cole, and I sit a few rows in front of my parents and Daisy. My parents worry a bit about the three of us being away from them, but we assure them that we'd be okay, we are mature, responsible teenagers.
Cole turns to Andrea and me and says, "I don't want to go home."
Andrea sighs. She adds, "Me too."
"We'll do another trip together like this!" I attempt to cheer them up.
Andrea laughs and says, "Let's go to France!"
"Yeah!" I agree.
Cole stares through the tiny window, oblivious to us, lost in his own thoughts. Andrea and I chat for a few minutes about France, then the plane takes off.
"Mickaela!" I hear a whisper coming from behind me. I turn around and see nothing there. That's a bit odd.
I ask Andrea and Cole, "Did you guys hear that?"
They shake their heads and Cole asks, "Hear what?"
"It must have been my imagination," I say, and forget about the whisper.
Andrea and Cole watch a movie while I read a book. The flight is calm and relaxing, until a few hours in, we hit turbulence. A sudden jerking movement causes me to drop my beloved book. Andrea and Cole take off their headphones.
Andrea, visibly frightened, whispers, "What was that?"
I shrug and mouth "I don't know."
Another movement nearly throws us out of our seats. Andrea and I quickly clasp hands. Fear envelopes my entire body and I cannot move. An announcement comes over the speaker but I don't hear it because a baby screams in front of us.
The next movement, the worst so far, flings my head forward into the seat. Baggage falls out on the overhead compartments. A throbbing ache in my head makes it hard to me to think as passengers scream and try to calm their loved ones. Andrea's hand holds mine so tightly it goes numb. Where are my parents? And Daisy? Daisy? I try to swivel my head to glimpse their seats three or four rows behind us, but my vision blackens and the last thing I see is an oxygen mask going over my face.
