Homecoming

Prologue

I was awakened by shouts and crying. I could not breathe. There was white smoke everywhere. I could see the oxygen masks that had fallen from their hiding place under the overhead compartment. I swatted at them like I was swatting flies. No way was I going to let a mask keep me tethered to this plane, so I pulled my shirt over my mouth and nose. I wished for us to be back home, to be arguing about not wanting to go to Ireland. Anything would be better than being on this stupid plane in the middle of stupid nowhere worrying about being rescued. Something hit my foot. Looking down, I saw purses, bags, and even shoes sliding towards the front of the plane. I swallowed hard and turned toward my window. Water! Twisting my head to the other side to see out the other window, all I could see was water. We’re going to crash into the ocean! I saw my mom in the seat across the aisle from me. She was stiff, rigid, and her eyes were wide. Her knuckles were white from gripping the arm rests. I wasn’t sure she was breathing. Dad was trying to climb over Seth and Tara. My brother and sister were seated on the inside of Mom and Dad by the window so that they could read comic books together. Now Dad was trying to put them between himself and Mom. The youngest in the center.

I was thrown forward, and my head hit the seat in front of me. All the air was forced from my lungs causing stars and white spots to float in front of me and my hands to tingle. My head ached and touching it was excruciating. That’s going to leave a mark. Suddenly, I heard someone screaming something about water inside the plane. The muscles in my chest tightened. I always heard of what a heart attack felt like, but I was too young to have a heart attack. I was only 16, and I was fairly athletic. I mean, I was the star goalie in the soccer team, and I even went to state finals for track. Breathe. In 1, 2. Out 1, 2.

I could see the flight attendant trying to open the emergency hatches that were on both sides of the plane. The one closest to my parents opened with a bang, shooting a yellow thing out that was inflating as it floated towards the water creating a slide. I don’t think this will be like anything at the water park.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please make your way to the exits in an orderly fashion,” one flight attendant said.

“Rose, let your dad go first,” I heard my mom say.

I began to make my way to the open hatch with my family. People started yelling at each other, pushing each other.

“Stop pushing,” a lady said to a man wearing a suit.

“I’m not dying in here!” called out someone behind us.

“Move!” yelled a raspy masculine voice.

An older woman fell in front of us, and people just walked on her to get past her. A man in a blue polo shirt, tight enough to strain from the muscles in his arms and chest, bent over and scooped the woman up in his arms as if she were a child. She threw her arms around him crying.

I could hear the flight attendant near the slide telling people, “One at a time, please. Step onto the slide with your hands crossed over your chest.”

As I stepped up to the threshold, the sea air stung my face giving me courage. Plunging into the icy water made me gasp for air. Treading water just like I was taught to do in emergencies to save energy, I started calling for Dad but so was every other child. Bobbing heads were calling out for someone. Looking around for something to float on, I found a cushion from one of the chairs that they say we can use as “floatation devices in the event of a crash.” I clung to that cushion as if it were the breath of life itself.

Oh crap! Sharks! What if the crash lured sharks here? I started kicking my legs to propel me away from the crash site. I have no idea where I am. I reached for my phone that was usually in my back pocket, but it was not there. I had lost everything. No wallet, phone, passport—nothing. “Really!” I yelled to all of creation.

The colors created in the sky were as a watercolor smeared with purples, oranges, and pinks. The sky was bigger than I ever remembered it being. It was so peaceful that I stopped kicking and just floated on the water with my cushion. I was so tired. The rhythm of the waves made my eyes heavy. My muscles were sore, and my head ached. I knew my body would not take much more without resting. All I had to do was hold on to the cushion. Maybe just a few minutes. I have to rest. Not sleep, just rest.