Shame, Planes, and Love

February 1, 2011
By LyndseyCameron1 BRONZE, Winter Springs, Florida
LyndseyCameron1 BRONZE, Winter Springs, Florida
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

A roaring monster passes over head sending chills up my spine and a feeling of dread into my mind. He knows I hate airplanes so why had he had me come here. While I sit here and go through making a list of all the terrible things he could’ve had me come out here for an emotion I haven’t felt in a while sweeps over me. It pulls me under like a big wave and makes we want to cry. It takes me a moment to place it but finally my measly brain offers the answer. I am ashamed.

I had been (and let’s admit it I still am) so caught up in him and so eager to please I had obliged to his ridiculous request to meet him at the flight school. I can’t even think about what he is about to make me do and more shame rains down as I realize whatever it is, I will do it. I am hopeless.

“kenzie” I hear his deep voice float towards me with his nickname for me. At the sound of his voice my heart starts to pound and suddenly I just want to be with him. I turn around and see him only three feet away. I run into his arms. “Whoa, easy girl” he says with his southern charm. I usually love when he says this but for some reason I cant get the fact out of my mind that it sounds like he is talking to a horse. I take a few steps back so we aren’t touching anymore and when he goes to kiss me I turn my head. “I am a confused mess” I think to myself and wait for the accusations and questions to start pouring from Brad’s mouth.

But instead I am surprised with him taking my hand instead and saying “you excited?” I want to tell him I am but I can’t bring myself to do it, because I am truly not. “You know I am terrified of planes” I say quietly not looking at him. “I thought we could conquer your fear together. Come on it’ll be fun.” He says making it sound like it was the easiest thing in the world. I love and hate that about him. Everything he does seems so effortless. He drapes his tan, muscular arm over my shoulder and rests his chiseled chin on the top of my head breathing in the scent of my shampoo. “We don’t have to do this. Maybe another time” he says and I know he is doing this for me. He longs to fly that plane and I know it, but I feel as if I might vomit right then and there. I run to the restroom and he follows me. I get inside and sit next to the toilet taking deep breaths (gulps of the tainted air in a public restroom doesn’t make me feel much better.). To my surprise he follows me into the ladies room and sits outside the stall waiting for me. “Mackenzie are you okay?” he ask concerned and that’s the last thing I remember before deafening sounds I can’t identify and pain. Lots and lots of pain.

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