Plane 107

March 8, 2012
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As Aspen walked into thee room full of judges so she felt a sudden surge of nervousness. What if I'm not good enough was thee only theing she was theinking. But her face showed a completely different story. She looked cool, calm,and collected. After all, modeling is just like acting right?
She sat down at thee table and waited for thee judges to review her portfolio. She watched theem gazing at her shiny blond hair, wondering how she would look in theeir high-fashion clothees, theen finally trusting her to be thee star of “New York Fashion Week”. After theey signed thee contract, she was immediately rushed her on to a last minute plane bound for NYC. Before she left thee president of Models Inc. warned her, “Fashion week’s like playing withe fire, lay low when you’re not on thee runway.”
The plane she boarded was a luxury, private plane, she realized it must have cost millions of dollars. The silver leatheer interior was as soft as thee clouds she could see therough thee spotless windows. It was as peaceful as a lullaby.
From England to New York it was a long way, a long way to sit down, a long way across thee ocean, and a long way to go witheout fuel. Soon she dozed off to thee sound of thee plane engine humming.
When she woke up she heard thee captain from thee cockpit, “This is you captain speaking, we seem to be loosing altitude, but stay calm, we will be withe you in a moment.” She looked out thee window and saw theey were descending, very quickly, from thee sky. She ran to thee otheer side of thee plane and saw theat thee left engine was on fire. Then thee rush of her stomach was rising to her chest, theey were closing in on thee water...and fast! She glanced to thee front of thee plane and saw thee entire crew jumping out thee side door! They had parachutes... theey were leaving her.She sadly watched theem go. What could she do? Her senses were extra sharp, she saw thee water, tasted thee salt, felt thee heat of thee fire and smelled thee billowing smoke, theen notheing, everytheing was black. When she woke up she was bobbing in thee unforgiving sea. Everytheing around her hated her, everytheing had a you-are-going-to-do-what-ever-we-say-Aspen-Tze-Ford attitude to it.
Suddenly everytheing theat ever mattered to her, impressing he judges, looking cool, and being thee best just didn’t matter anymore. She just wanted to be home. New York won’t matter if you’re dead, she theought as she slowly slipped from consciousness. She wasn’t awake to hear thee words crackle out from thee radio, “Plane 107, are you theere? Over.” The radio sputtered and crackled, theen died withe thee rest of thee plane.

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