Preface

Red emergency lights flashed, a female voice spoke: "Prepare for a crash landing. Emergency Thrust Failing Due to a Systems Failure."

Everyone on the airplane froze. Silence bombarded Luna's eardrums.

"Did they just say what I think they just said?" Luna's cousin, Freddie, asked in a quivering voice.

"That depends," someone from the front of the plane called, "what do you think they just said?"

"That we're going to die," Freddie said weakly, leaning his head back on the seat, his back stick straight.

Luna stared straight ahead. She wouldn't get to England. She would never get to meet the first person to experience time travel. She wouldn't get to do anything that she hasn't done so far in her life. She'll never learn to play the guitar, or really show everyone that she could play the violin. She would never learn to play the piano or read cello music. She wouldn't be able to publish that story, the one she'd been working on for years, not one person had read it. She was just going to die. Just like that. The worst part is that she would be no better than the other one hundred passengers in the airplane with her. No better than the pilot or the flight attendant. Or the person who's voice was recorded for the message, the message that they were going to die.

No one spoke. Everyone's gaze had fixed into one spot. Some men had pulled out wallets and were gazing sorrowfully at their wife and children, who they said good-bye to for the weekend, not forever.

Luna thought about all the people who had died in airplanes. Amelia Earhart was one, and she was sure famous. All of the victims of 9/11; they'd died in airplanes, too. Only, they had died heroically.

Luna knew this would be on the news for maybe a week; there would be notification that flight 542 to England from America crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. They would say that there was no way to locate the bodies. There would be an inquiry as to how the airplane crashed, they FAA would decide whose fault it was and it would be over with.

The only ones hurt would be the family. The families would hurt. They would hurt, so, so much.

The man in front of Luna turned back to her and asked, "are you on your way to see the seventeen year old girl who experienced time travel?"

When Luna nodded numbly, wondering what this had to do with anything, the old man said, "she went backwards in time. We met. I knew her, in the past. We were married. We had children. Did you know that when they brought her back to the present, she died in the past? It answered that there could only be one of each person, that time travel wouldn't duplicate a person. I was going to go fetch her. I was going to go get my Caryn. I know that she probably won't love me, at least not the same way now, but I just need to talk to her. Tell her things that I didn't get to tell her."

Luna noticed the man was crying. And she knew that she wasn't going to be the one hurting. Wasn't this what she'd wanted all along? To know of someone who was in more pain than she, to make her life seem just that much better? Why didn't it feel good, like she'd thought it would? Like she'd wished so vehemently it would. Why? Why? Why?

"Passengers, please, say a prayer and prepare for the crash. I can't guarantee your death, but I definitely cannot guarantee survival. There are Navy's from around the world waiting to save survivors. If you live you will be heroes. Please, remember me well. I'm going down with this plane. I do not plan on living. And, also, I ask of you one favor. Tell my wife I love her. Tell Eileen Dover that I, Ben Dover love her so, so much and that I'll miss her and to be strong," the pilot had left the cockpit. He was standing before the passengers, and hardly had to raise his voice for the silence in the cabin.

The passengers nodded numbly. Luna didn't dare say aloud what she was thinking. She wasn't planning on living. She was just so guilty for being so self-loathing and for wishing it all to end, to end soon. Her entire life seemed like one big, huge mistake. She could see everything that she had done wrong, everything that she should have done and everything that she shouldn't have. Everything was lain out before her, for her to woe in self-pity for one last time.

In the windows, the Atlantic Ocean, a stormy gray mass, loomed ever nearer. Tears streaked down Luna's face and she realized that deep down she wasn't afraid to die, she knew it wouldn't hurt, it would be like falling asleep. But on the surface, she was more afraid of death than admitting her wrong-doings.

There was a huge bang, and everyone screamed. Except for Luna. And Luna didn't hear it either. She had been flung forward on impact, and the concussive force of slamming the seat in front of her at such a high speed had killed her instantly.

And she was right. It was just as easy as falling asleep. It was smooth and blissful. Happy and bright. Everything was okay. She'd been forgiven.

On that day, every person on the plane except for two people died immediately. Paul McCartney, the old man, died in the hospital a week later. When news leaked of his whereabouts, Caryn Cassandra Samson-Smith, the first living being experience time travel had gone to the hospital to see him. He died as they laughed about old memories from the past. Caryn was hurt, but not too much. She knew it was his time, and they both had a life full of memories, and Caryn had a new life to live, a new life to fill with memories, and was able to let go for the sake of Paul's memory. Of Paul, her Paul. Paulwasn't afraid to die, just like Luna wasn't. The only difference was that he'd lived a long, full, happy and healthy life and was with the person that he loved when he died. Luna didn't take the time to love and be happy and healthy, and died at the age of eleven.

The pilot, Benjamin Dover, who had planned to die, who had hoped to die, who was willing to die, lived. Everyone else on the plan had wanted to live, see their families again and hoped against hope to live. Ben Dover, who was self-sacrificing enough to die for the passengers on the plane, to die because of his fatal error, had lived. He was forgiven even more so than Luna Starr.

AN: R&R!! Gosh, I'm crying just from writing that…

oO0Oo