Hiiii, I hope you’re having a great week! Today I’m coming to you with my nightmare of a story that I have been avoiding writing for 3 weeks now. The story didn’t want to start storying until yesterday and has been driving me crazy every time I thought about it, so I’m super glad it’s finished, and I can finally share it with you and move on haha
I have poured my blood, sweat and tears to make this one exist, so I hope you’re gonna enjoy it <3
What if
I open my eyes, and it’s eerily quiet. For a few seconds, I can’t even remember my own name, let alone what day it is. I yawn and roll on the other side of my bed till a stray ray of sunlight hits me in the face. Then I remember.
“Fuck!” I scream and jump out of bed, trying to feel for something I could wear among piles of paints, old newspapers and brushes I should have cleaned months ago.
“Fuck, damn it, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I continue and run around the apartment, throwing shit in my bag as fast as I can. Charger, lipstick, deodorant, a spare pair of socks I had worn at least once already. My phone starts ringing across the living room, and I give it my all not to throw another string of swears in its direction. I get to it at the third ring and press it to my ear with a spare shoulder, using my arms to pull on the only tights – torn, of course – I managed to find.
“Hi, sis! Are you ready for today? You’re in the taxi, right?”
Fucking shitty shit in the fuck.
“Yeah, of course,” I answer through clenched teeth and move to the bedroom again. “Who am I, the worst sister in the world?”
“I wouldn’t say the worst. You’re just the most irresponsible one.”
“Ha!” I exclaim and catch my oversized dress, then try to stuff it into my decidedly undersized suitcase.
“Anyway, I’m not going to supervise you the whole time. Just wanted to make sure you’ll be here on time.” There is a silence during which I order a taxi and pray someone will be available within the next five minutes. “You will, right?”
“What? Oh, yeah, I will. Don’t worry,” I force out of myself and knock down the urge to scream at her to hang up.
“Alriiiight, see you later then!”
“Byeeee,” I say sweetly and hang up before she can squeeze in another word.
How is this possible?
How could I have forgotten about her birthday again?
///
I hear the sound of my alarm even before it goes off. It’s been my superpower ever since I was a kid. I jump to my feet and switch it off so it doesn’t annoy me when I get ready. And so it doesn’t wake up Matt, of course. Though with his dead bear sleep, I doubt he would mind it.
I slip out of the room and head to the toilet. I brush my teeth, wash my hair, then pack all the prepared cosmetics in a plastic bag. It's still early when I spread the spices on the counter, cut the vegetables and turn on the oven. Every time I leave, I try to prepare something for Matt, so he doesn't starve to death while I'm gone. My work requires me to travel quite often, but I don't mind. I'm never away for too long.
This time, I’ll be gone for only two days, but Matt is not the most skilled chef in the world, to say the least. He would order takeout the minute he saw an empty fridge. He promised to learn to cook before we get married, but seeing that the wedding is only two weeks away, I doubt he will manage. It’s still a nice thought, though.
///
I run down the stairs and somehow think it’s a good idea. As if these five seconds would actually change something about the fact that I woke up approximately five hours too late, and the driver had been waiting for me for more than ten minutes. With the door already in sight, I slip and fall, and an equivalent of half a floor worth of stairs flashes before my eyes. After that, everything goes black.
///
I wave at a taxi driver, the first one that appears in my line of sight, and he pulls the car next to me immediately. It’s my lucky day, it seems. Everything is going right as I planned it. The road is empty, the weather perfect for driving, my meticulously packed suitcases lying safely in the trunk… Now, I can finally exhale and relax. There is nothing more to be stressed about. At least not for now.
///
When I regain consciousness, all my things are scattered across the ground floor, and my body hurts in places I had not even suspected existed. I crawl to my phone, broken, and with the sheer force of will, I manage to order myself a new ride. I let myself rest against the cold, pee-yellow wall, and then when it’s time, I peel myself off the floor, throw whatever I can back into the suitcase and leave the rest behind me.
///
I check in and go through security, all without a single problem or delay. The flight is not due for another two hours, but I like to take my time. I wasn't always that organised, but frequent travels teach you how to predict all the unpredictable. How could I forget anything, let alone miss my flight, when everything can be planned, secured, and checked – once and then again, just to be sure.
I sit down at the airport café and get down to work. Only this one trip left. After that, I'll be able to rest and focus on the wedding ahead.
///
“The weather seems to be taking a turn in our sunny San Francisco. Meteorologists warn against sudden storms that may pass through our city in the next few–”
“Can you turn it off, please?”
“What, you don’t like listening to weathermen, sweetheart?” He smiles, and I grimace. A fall down the stairs and a creepy driver. What else will I have to go through today?
“Uh-oh…”
“What?” I straighten up to look over his shoulder and stare at the map. The road ahead of us is orange, then starts turning red at the speed of light.
“I think we’ll be stuck here for a while, darling.”
Well.
That’ll do.
///
When it's finally time, I gather my things and head towards the fifth gate. I take my place in a rapidly growing queue, but I'm still early. Only a few minutes pass before I’m asked to show my passport, and then just a few more before I find my seat and get comfortable. I stare outside the window while the other passengers look for their places, then look at my phone when it sounds like we're almost ready for takeoff.
“Remember to text me when you land, okay?
“And thanks for the burritos, babe. They are divine. Can't wait to have you back with me again. Be safe!”
I smile and text him back.
“Of course, honey. I'll call you in two hours. I love you!”
I'm about to switch my phone off when another text comes.
“I love you so much, Sophie. I can't wait to be your husband, you know?”
Please put your phones in airplane mode.
“I love you more than anything, Matt. I can’t wait for that either. Talk to you soon, honey.”
///
I rush through the door and run towards security, trying to ignore the fire burning in my lungs.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please. This is the final boarding call for passengers on flight 802 to Stockholm. Please proceed to gate number 5 immediately.”
Shit.
People let me pass when they hear my pleading voice. The ones who don't, I push out of my way. The security checks me once, then the second time when it turns out I forgot to take the spare earrings out of my pockets. They see something in my suitcase and keep it, and I beg them to let me go.
“This is the final boarding call for passengers on flight 802 to Stockholm.”
“Please, could you just do it faster?”
“Miss, I need to ask you to calm down. Let us do our job, or I'll have you removed from the building.”
“Please proceed to gate number 5 immediately. The gate will be closing in five minutes.
“You need to understand! I cannot miss this flight!”
“Russell, we got it. There were scissors in her luggage. Miss, are you aware–”
“Yes, of course I am. I must have packed it by accident. I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Just take whatever you want and let me through, okay?”
The guard glares at me but then hands me the suitcase and points where I need to go. I grab it and sprint towards the gate, passing people by millimetres.
“Wait! Please, wait for me!” I scream when I see the boarding agents preparing to leave the gate. “No, please, I'm here. You need to let me through.”
“I'm so sorry, miss, but we cannot. The gate has already been closed, and the plane is preparing for takeoff.”
“Please, you don't understand. I need to take this flight. You have to let me in. I can't miss it.”
“I'm really sorry. There's nothing we can do.”
I turn around and take a few steps forward, dizzy with disbelief.
It was just a stupid few seconds. I should be on this plane now. How could I have missed it?
///
We have a slight delay, but we should be able to make up for it during the flight. I overheard we were waiting for one last passenger, but they didn't show up in the end. I wonder what had happened. I hope they are okay.
I watch the instructions like all the other times before but without much focus. Every word is carved in my brain, and it's not like I'll ever need them anyway. After they check our seatbelts, the machine starts to move. I hear a thump from below the floor, but when I look around, no one seems to have noticed it. When we approach the lane, I let myself relax.
The plane speeds up, first slowly, then more rapidly, until we lift above the ground and someone starts screaming.
A deafening noise cuts through the air, then everything goes black. The last thing I think of is my long white dress waiting on its hanger in the bridal boutique. I wonder how long it will stay there before they sell it again.
///
I see them before I fully grasp what has happened. They run across the airport with stern faces and flashy uniforms, tearing their way through the terrified crowd. Then I hear screams, the alarm going off, and finally, the mechanical sounds of evacuation instructions and soothing voices of flight attendants and airport employees assuring we’re safe. The air seems concrete – the reek of smoke and fire rushes through our noses and settles in our lungs; the windows blacken, cutting off whatever view of the outside we had left. The commotion is unbearable. We head towards the exit, but slowly, carrying our luggage against the recommendations. Everyone is frightened but not petrified yet. Everyone is alarmed, but not enough.
Someone puts on the radio, searching the sea of news for the single piece of information no one wants to hear. They don’t know yet – a whisper starts, first quiet, then growing in power.
A system failure?
Maybe, maybe not.
Terrorists?
No, they don’t think so. It’s a possibility, but they don’t think so.
Where?
Which one?
Where were they going?
No idea yet.
No.
Wait.
They know.
I stop dead in my tracks.
Stockholm.
Are you sure?
I am.
People press against me, but I barely notice it, bent over and frozen, trying to catch my breath.
Are you sure?
They say they are.
I sob, paralyzed.
Guilty.
Relieved.
I breathe in, then breathe out again.
Stockholm.
My phone rings, but I can’t hold it in my trembling hands.
My flight.
Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts, feel free to share. I’d love to chat <3
See you next week!