I never really liked flying. In fact, I avoided it at all costs, but my only sister was getting married and I couldn’t miss it. So, I bought my ticket, packed my bags, and here I was, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans as the stewardess gave safety instructions. - “In case of an emergency water landing-“, I zoned out and began to think of everything that could go wrong in a tiny metal tube floating in the air. My head was racing and my hands began to tremble. I desperately grabbed the armrests in a weak attempt to steady them. I triple checked my seat belt to make sure it was fastened and tight enough just as the pilot began announcing our departure. It wasn’t a long flight - only slightly over 3 hours - but I still despised the idea of being so utterly helpless and losing all control, thousands of feet above steady ground. I checked the time; my phone read 7:06PM. As this all raced through my head, the plane began picking up speed, and within a few minutes we were flying.
The steady movement of the plane, along with the droning white noise of the engine were almost calming - almost. About 15 minutes in, I reached my hand in my pocket and checked my phone, realizing that in all my anxiety I forgot to turn on airplane mode. As I was about to turn it off, a notification from an unknown number popped up. Weird, since I had no signal, but I figured it had just delivered late. I didn’t recognize the area code, but I opened it anyways. It was one attachment: a picture. As I tapped it, I felt all the blood drain from my face and my body went cold. It was a picture of myself on the plane. but from outside the window. I frantically looked outside, but was faced with a vast, empty sky. Panicking, I pressed the flight attendant button, then quickly turned it off as I realized just how crazy I’d sound. Had I imagined it? I had to have. How would someone take a picture of me from outside the plane and send it to me? I chalked it up to the nerves, turned on airplane mode, and shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable. Another half hour passed by, but my anxiety wouldn’t subside. I checked my phone again, just to be sure.
As soon as I clicked the on button and the screen lit up, another notification from the same number chimed onto the screen. The seven words I read chilled me to the bone. “Hold on tight and say a prayer”. As I read the last word, the plane suddenly lurched sideways, throwing me against the armrest. I winced as my ribcage collided with the stiff metal. The old lady in the seat beside me, who was getting up to use the restroom was thrown into the middle row as she lost her balance. The plane shook wildly, as if we were caught in the middle of a storm, but the blue sky was clear and peaceful. The screaming began as flight attendants ran up and down the aisle, trying to calm them down. They tried to say it was just some turbulence, but there was no use. This was nothing like any turbulence I’d ever experienced. The movement, while erratic, seemed forced, not caused by wind or weather. Around me, people were desperately texting and calling family members, sending last messages in hopes they’d be delivered when we landed - or crashed. Suddenly, with a mechanic groan and the sound of whipping winds, the plane flipped sideways, and then tipped straight down.
As the plane dipped into the clouds and began plummeting downwards, I remembered the messages. I grabbed my phone, and texted the unknown number “Who are you?? Why are you doing this?” as quickly as my trembling fingers allowed me to. As soon as the message sent, the plane stopped going straight down, and seemed to even out and gain some stability. The other passengers were looking around wildly, a mix of relief and fear. All I could do was stare at my phone screen, trying to make sense of what was happening. This person, or thing, whatever was texting me, had it been controlling the plane? It seemed impossible. I had to be dreaming. As I tried to rationalize all this, another notification dinged on my phone. It read “You know who I am. This is your fault, Danny”. There was only one person in the whole world that had ever called me Danny, and she had hated me with all her might.
Allison Morgan was a suburban housewife who led a very normal, boring life. Her day consisted of doing laundry, dishes, cooking, taking care of her 3 small children, and cleaning, amongst other things. She had led a fairly simple life, went to church on Sundays, took care of the children and kept things in order for her husband. Her husband, although a bit boring, was a nice man. He kept his head down and worked long hours to make ends meet. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was an agreeable man. Maybe it was the boringness of it all that sent her over the edge. Or maybe she just had a few screws loose. Who knows? Anyways, one cold winter evening, as she was getting her kids ready for bed after dinner, something snapped. She drowned all 3 of her own children in the bathtub, one by one, starting with Alice, the youngest one, only 3 years old. She then moved on to her 5 year old, Daniel (coincidentally my name twin), and lastly, her 7 year old, Thomas. She held each child under the water until they stopped breathing, then left them there before going back downstairs and waiting on the couch until her husband arrived. When he finally came home and found the children, he immediately called the police, desperate and terrified and sure it had been Allison. Her calmness and steadiness were the most off putting part of it all. She seemed completely at peace with what she had done.
The autopsy report showed that not only had they been drowned, but they had also been poisoned. They suspect Allison poisoned their dinner with cyanide, and then when it took too long to kill them, she resorted to the bathtub. It didn’t really matter anyways. She was charged with 3 counts of murder. When she was questioned, she said that God had told her she had to do it. She said her children would grow up to become horrible people (sinners was the word she used), and that she had to rid the world of her evil children before it was too late. Their school said they were wonderful, smart children with promising futures, but Allison was dead set. She said that by completing her mission, she would be granted eternal life as an omnipotent being made of the skies, light as wind and clear as day. Crazy, right?
You may be wondering what any of this has to do with me. The thing is, Allison wanted me to be her attorney. When I got the call, I thought of refusing immediately, but something told me not to. Maybe it was pity, or maybe it was just pure morbid curiosity. Either way, I went down to talk to her, and as soon as I walked into the room I was taken aback by her. She had long, mousy blonde hair that hung around her shoulders like wet string. Her eyes were sunken, her skin almost grey. She looked thin and tired, but that wasn’t it. She didn’t seem to be quite there. Not in a crazy, distant way, but physically not there. It was like she was barely translucent, a very slight glint hinting that something was off, almost like a hologram.
As I walked in, she smiled, but it was a halfhearted, insincere toothy grin. It scared me. I asked her what exactly she expected me to do. She thought it over for a while before saying “Danny, there isn’t a prison in the world that can keep me in. Not now, anyways”. I had always hated that nickname, but even more when she said it. It ran a chill down my spine. I asked her what she meant. She said “I told you. I completed my mission and got my reward. I’m not like you anymore. Look”, she reached her hand forward towards a glass of water, and as her fingers were about to grasp the cup, they went right through it. I gasped loudly, and she laughed a horrible, broken laugh. “See? I told you”. Staring at her, dumbfounded, I asked “Well, if you won’t stay in prison anyways, what is it you want me to do?” She looked at me like I was an idiot, and said “I want my damn husband back. He needs to see why I did what I did”. I looked at her for a while, and then told her I couldn’t help her with that. She had murdered their 3 children and shown not a single ounce of remorse or regret. I doubt her husband would ever look at her again, and either way, that wasn’t my job to fix. So I told her all this, and she glared at me with a look so hateful I could almost feel it searing my skin. She looked at me for what felt like full minutes, until she finally shrugged and said, “Alright, Danny. But you’ll never be able to forget me. Remember, this is your fault”. As she said this, her handcuffed wrists moved slightly as she pulled out a hidden razor and, before I could do anything, violently slashed her own wrists open.
The guards didn’t get there in time, and even if they had there was nothing they could’ve done. Those words stayed with me for a very, very long time. Now, back on the plane, the words popped into my head once again, repeating in a sickening loop. This is my fault. But how? I could barely control my anxiety, how the hell would I control the weather? Thinking back on Allison’s case, I became angry all over again. Angry for her children, at her, at the fact that there was never any justice. I furiously texted back, “is this some kind of sick joke? Allison died in front of me. Who the fuck is this?” As soon as I pressed send, another message came in. “Is that how it is? Suit yourself, Danny”. The second I finished reading, the plane lurched sideways again, then flipped on its side, throwing people against windows and each other. The screams began again, this time accompanied by the loud, howling wind. I watched in horror as I felt the plane spin wildly, uncontrollably, and then once again begin a downwards dip. As my stomach sank, I desperately grabbed my phone and texted “Stop, make it stop! what do you want?” The plane continued barreling towards the ground, until suddenly, as it had before, it straightened out and became stable again. The dreaded message ping rang out again. The message contained only 3 chilling words. “I want you.”
Me? What does that even mean? Was I supposed to give her something? How was this even happening? She slit her wrists right in front of me. I saw the light go out of her eyes as she smiled maniacally. There was no way she was alive. Unless… no, it’s not possible that all that omnipotent being thing was real. There’s just no way. But then again, what else could be doing this to the plane? I had began sweating profusely without noticing. My phone was slipping out of my cold, clammy hands as I gripped it firmly and wrote back, “What do you want from me?”
The next message read, “You, Danny, much like my devilish children, are evil. There is no place in the world for someone like you. So, im giving you a choice. It should be easy. Give yourself to me, or let this plane go down with all these innocent people. You have 4 minutes to decide, or they’re all going down with you. You’ll find the window beside you seems weak, almost made of plastic. It should be easy to break. Tick, tock.”
I stared at my screen in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to me. What had I done? All because I wouldn’t take on a lost cause case? There was nothing I could have done. She would have been lucky to get the death penalty. All the proof clearly showed this was her doing, and she seemed quite proud of what she’d done. There was no way she’d win, even if she did plead guilty. And what did she expect me to do? Why had she even chosen me in the first place? Either way, I had seen what she was capable of, and I couldn’t let all these people die knowing it would be my fault. God, I hated flying. It should have been an easy decision. It truly should have. But my selfishness took over. Why did I have to sacrifice myself? I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I didn’t even know these people. As this raced through my head, the plane trembled, almost as a reminder to snap me out of it. I realized it didn’t matter what I did. I was going to die anyways. Either I died alone, or I took all these innocent strangers with me.
So, taking a deep breath, I examined my window. Sure enough, it was shaking violently in the wind. I unfastened my seatbelt with trembling hands, and pushed the window outwards. It flew out with no resistance, opening a wide, gaping hole that sucked the breath out of my lungs. Immediately, an alarm went off and the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. I looked back and saw all the passengers scrambling to put them on, trying desperately to survive, and I was suddenly sure that I had to do this. I had to save all those people, even if they never knew it. I stuck my head out the window, into the freezing cold air. I could no longer breathe. The pressure inside my head made it feel like I was going to pop, but the gaping hole continued pulling me forward, outwards, into the clear blue skies.
The edges of my vision began to grow dark, and I felt excruciating pain as I felt my collarbones crack and then shatter, dislocating my shoulder as the unseen forced tried to pull me through the small window. Suddenly, as my vision grew darker and darker, I was floating. I figured I had already died, from the pressure or the lack of oxygen, or maybe just pure shock, until I heard it. That horrible, broken laugh. I had to get away from her, no matter how. But I couldn’t move. I could only see darkness, and felt myself drifting away, almost as if I were falling asleep. I felt an overwhelming peace, knowing I had completed my mission. Knowing I had saved a plane full of people from certain death. As this crossed my mind, I was suddenly aware of her presence. I couldn’t see her, but somehow, she was there. A soft breeze carried me, as I felt something brush my ear. Then, a whisper, “You thought it would be this easy?” Just as quickly, I stopped floating, as if I had fallen, and began hurtling towards the ground below. A feeling of sheer terror overcame me as the ground below became closer and closer. I closed my eyes, waiting for impact.
I woke up gasping, gripping my seat armrest, sweating profusely, my cheeks wet with tears and my heart racing. I tried to catch my breath and calm my heart down. It had just been a dream. The pilot began announcing our flight would be just over three hours, and we would be leaving shortly. Still sweating, I decided to check my phone. Although it seemed impossible, my heart began racing even faster. There were no notifications, but the time read 7:06PM. So, here I am, writing this as quickly as possible, hoping someone can help me before this goddamn loop begins again. If I can actually post this, someone needs to help me. Some way, somehow, figure out a way to get me off this damn plane. And please, if anyone reads this, never, ever get on flight [redacted].