Wing It

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

Well, that’s all well and good after I’d just received an in-depth lecture about how to open said door. Now, I must try not to. And all I wanted was a bit of extra legroom...

I’ve already forgotten half of what she said, and we've only been in the air thirty minutes. I do know you have to push quite hard.

It’s not until we’re over open water that things start to go wrong.

The captain calls for everyone to remain seated, and the seat belt light blinks on. The plane shakes, dipping slightly; everything rattles.

I don’t know what I felt first, the shock wave or the heat. Suddenly, my head was thrown forward as searing heat whipped past my face.

The screaming started immediately.

The aircraft nosedived, pushing me backwards into my seat. My stomach dropped as my arms flailed and we plummeted.

At last, we straightened out. The cabin was filling with smoke. The heat on the back of my head was blinding; I could feel my skin peeling. I arched forward, fumbling for the release of my seat belt, tumbling onto the floor.

The fire roared a few rows back. Masks dropped down from the ceiling. Staring at the raging fire, I wondered how much oxygen a Boeing 747 carried on board.

Fuck that.

Scrambling for the lever on the door, I shoved with everything I had, my mouth filling with bile as I felt the door give.

Suddenly, I was plummeting through the frigid air towards the sparkling water beneath me.

The boom from above was like nothing I had ever experienced. The plane exploded into pieces, sending shards of metal and bits of people plummeting to the earth around me like a bloody, meat-filled firework.