Hey guys. This is, admittedly, very bizarre. I was on a plane at midnight--cut me a break. Please read it though; I'm rather fond of it, and I'd like to know what you think. I don't usually write in first person, so it was a little uncomfortable. PLEASE REVIEW, i want to know what you think on this one...

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This flight had felt wrong from the very beginning.

It had been one of those stereotypically horrible flights, like in the movies. Movies where another mishap happens every time the hero turns around. Yeah, it was one of those.

I had the unpleasant experience of being ditched by my best friends yesterday. We were departing from spring break in Miami when we were informed that our flight had been overbooked, and one of us would have to stay behind. I graciously offered my services, despite my lack of flying, and not even my best friend contested me. Nobody offered to take my place, and nobody offered to stay another day with me.

But you can’t blame them; selfishness is an integral part of being a college student.

So, I spent the night in a nice hotel (paid for by the apologetic Southwest airline), and dutifully woke this morning to catch flight 702 to Chicago.

It’s surreal, really, how drastically downhill life went from there. I got to security without mishap, though there I was confronted by the most hideous security guard known to mankind. They wanted to search my carry-on. They threw out a hundred dollar bottle of perfume that was inside, which I had allowed myself to splurge on in Miami. Why I didn’t pack it in my suitcase, because it is obviously a serious threat to airplane safety, I will never know.

As of then fairly undaunted, I left security to discover that the check had taken far longer than I realized, and I was going to miss my flight if I didn’t haul ass to the opposite side of the airport.

I arrived—sweaty, disheveled, and holding my shoes (one snapped heel)—as they were about to close the gate. I hurried through, quickly catching up to the ragtag man in front of me. The flight was full, and the man in front of me chose the seat beside a guy who was almost too gorgeous, and who appeared only too available. I ended up squished between two of the fattest men ever to walk the planet, a good five hundred pounds each. The sensation was disgusting. The man on my right let his eyes rove over me suggestively, and I shuddered. Oh, the horror.

Seriously…it was classic.

Almost as soon as we took off, the baby in front of me began screeching. And on my left, the other enormous Y-chromosome promptly fell asleep and began snoring at vast decibels.

Monsieur Perverted hit on me so relentlessly for the first half hour that, loathe as I was to leave my vulnerable body within his slimy reach, I opted for some Benadryl and sank into an artificial sleep.

--

I awoke to a loud pop beneath my feel and a startling dip in the plane’s flight. A few seconds of silence ensued, and then whispers abound. Most likely to quell the mounting noise, the pilot came over the loudspeaker.

“Please, folks, do not panic.” He said in an annoying southern drawl. “One of our engines just gave on out, but we can continue on without it. Again, please do not panic.”

I scoffed. As if…The whispers died down…a little. The worry was evident on most of the faces.

Except, of course, my horny friend on the right. He was too busy watching me to really care about the flight.

My thoughts began to race. I am notorious among my friends for my complete inability to cope with stressful situations. Absurd thoughts made their way into my mind—I began to wonder why there was no hospitalized girl or musical nurse at the front, since we were obviously on the set of Airplane! My breathing picked up threefold.

Unfortunately, this only served to turn my perverted pal on even more.

A few seconds later, another, much louder pop sounded. The silence that followed was deafening, because it was lacking not only voices but also the engine’s steady roar. I watched, in these moments, as the front of the plane tipped down at a startling angle. My stomach lurched as the wind started whistling past the falling body of the plane.

And then, the screaming began.

A high-pitched, girly wail was first, and I craned my neck to see whom it belonged to. I was surprisingly lucid, and I noted with amusement that the source of the noise was the ‘almost too gorgeous’ guy I had so wanted to sit next to. Beside me, the fat, sexually driven man reached out a pudgy hand towards me.

“We’re going to die,” He said over the screams. “Can I touch you?”

I slapped his hand away in horror, and my reign of clear thinking ended. We are dying, I realized with dread. A stewardess made an announcement declaring an emergency landing over the screams.

Also known as, a crash.

I thought about my boyfriend, my mother, my cat. Ignoring the oxygen mask that fell in front of me, I leaned back against my seat. My hands gripped the armrests hard enough to turn my knuckles white.

Please let me be dreaming, I thought. Please…

--

I awoke, to no pop. Beside me, a fat man slept, and on my other side a larger one eyed me hungrily. Outside the window, the sun shone like a beacon. The plane was fine.

Within a few minutes, though, my peace was disturbed. Sounds like gunshots filled the air, and the plane rocked viciously.

The loudspeaker crackled on, and out came a familiar southern drawl. “Uh…this is unusual…please remain calm as we deal with this. Our plane is under attack.” He must not have realized that the speaker was on, because there was static, and then his voice, fainter, “Dammit, Janice. What now?” In the background a female voice said smugly, “I told you we shouldn’t have smuggled money on a commercial plane.” Then they seemed to realize, and the sound turned off.

And then, the screaming began. I didn’t have to look to identify the owner of the girlish wail behind me.

I leaned over the horny guy to look out the window. He let out a contented sigh, but I ignored him. Outside, four small fighter jets were circling us.

Before my eyes, one of the jets loosed a rocket straight at me. I jumped back as it collided, leaving a huge dent in the metal siding and forcing Senor (insert squiggle) Gross closer to me. The plane lilted dangerously…

I ignored the oxygen mask and leaned back. Please let this be a dream, I thought, Please…

--

I awoke to a horrendous ripping sound. My first feeling was of relief, and then fresh fear.

No one else seemed to notice the sound.

There it was again…a great scratching. I glanced out the window, and gaped at what I saw.

The plane was falling apart. Before my eyes, screws were jumping out of the wing like popcorn. I gasped as a large, metal chunk of the wing fell off completely, accompanied by the scratching sound.

Jumping to my feet, I screeched, “STEWARDESS!”

A woman appeared at my side in an instant. I pointed out the window, and her eyes widened at the sight. “I’ll tell the pilot,” she said.

Her expression alerted my fellow passengers. The panic rose thickly in the air.

And then, the singing began.

A familiar, high-pitched voice rose in the back, but he wasn’t screaming. His beautiful voice sang a familiar tune. “L…is for the way you look at me…O…is for the only one I see…”

Someone joined the beautiful singer, and then another. Soon, even my perverted companion was singing.

“Two…in love can make it, take my heart but please don’t break it, love…”

My eyes bulged.

What…the…hell?

I glanced back out the window, and cried out as the entire wing fell off. The plane faltered slightly.

How freaking bizarre.

Suddenly, the window I was looking through flew out of its frame. The pressure in the cabin plummeted as the extreme wind whipped through.

My eardrums burst. I screamed, but couldn’t hear anything. The pain was unimaginable…sharp knives seemed to drive into my head in various locations. The plane started to fall…

All around me, people’s ears were bleeding, eyes bulging…but they were still singing. I couldn’t hear them.

I clamped my hands over what used to be my ears, tears falling freely.

Please let me be dreaming…

--

I awoke again. I whipped my hands to my ears, surprised to find them intact. But I couldn’t hear the engine…Where was I?

I wasn’t even in the plane. I was in my bed, back in my dorm. I sighed, trying to forget the dream…

But what had happened? I couldn’t remember the second half of my flight, or getting home.

My roommate walked in, smiling. Her brown hair swung around her face. Smiling back, I asked, “How was break?”

She whipped towards me, eyes glowing red. A nasty feeling began in the pit of my stomach. In one movement, she jumped across the room and onto my chest. Her knees crushed my chest; I couldn’t breathe.

Her voice was extremely low, like a B-movie demon voice. “Just fine. But you’re not getting out that easily. You’re…not…dreaming.” With that, she reached down and plucked out my eyes. The pain was excruciating, worse than the eardrums by far.

“Please…” I whimpered.

--

I awoke with a scream on the peaceful plane. Horny gave me a funny look.

I glanced around quickly. The wings were intact, the window present, no crazy roommate…I let out a sigh of relief.

I ordered a coke, and the oversized, once-sleeping man asked for a coffee. We received them, and I leaned back with a sigh.

The pilot came on, his southern drawl jovial. “Howdy, ladies and gentlemen! I would like to inform you all that I am feeling particularly suicidal today, and will be crashing the plane. You will all die.”

I jumped up with a cry of outrage, but no one else responded. I looked around incredulously. The stewardess served drinks; the gorgeous boy read a book…

“HELLO!” I screamed, voice cracking. Several people looked up. “WE”RE GOING TO DIE!” They all looked down again, immersing themselves in their newspapers and laptops. Horny smiled at me indulgently, like I was mentally deficient. No one said a thing.

“GARGH!” I jumped up and down, but no one paid me any mind. At that moment, the plane took a serious nosedive.

This is too much, I thought, too fucking much. I watched as the man next to me sipped his coffee, unaware that half of the steaming liquid dribbled down his front with the tilt of the plane. The sight, for some reason, calmed me down.

I took my seat again, a bit uncomfortable with the sixty-degree angle. A pretty stewardess with bouncing blond curls came to our row.

“Peanuts or pretzels?” she asked nicely.

“Pretzels, please…” As she handed me the tiny package, I couldn’t help asking, “It never fucking stops, does it?”

She smiled at me sweetly, and began to move on. “Of course not, sweetie.”