Flight 714

May 25, 2010
“Flight 714, Jenny McAdams,” a boring man with a tux and a Yankees cap said. I felt myself being lifted up into the air. Everyone around me was sad and wearing black like they were at a funeral. Whose funeral is this anyway? I took another look at the pastor. He wasn’t even a pastor! I could tell because, he had a scar on his left eye, a baseball cap, and yellow, stained teeth! What was going on? I leaned over and looked at the crowd. Where were my parents? Why am I here? Who are they?

There was a grave couple, with a little boy missing an arm. There was an old man, with a face of stone. There was even a black, sleek-haired man wearing an eye patch. Who were these people? The whole crowd was like that, bloody, or scary. Why am I here? I am, after all, only a girl, with light brown hair, a big smile, a crooked nose, and bright blue eyes. I’m not that repulsive! I looked out the other side, and remembered that I was being carried. Why?

“Flight 714, Jenny McAdams…” the creepy ‘pastor’ said again. That’s my name, what’s going on? Flight 714, what is he talking about? “May she rest in peace,” he said. Huh? I leaned out, and realized that I was lingering above a giant pit, shaped like a rectangle. It was cold and sinister. It was too late for me to correct what was happening. I began to be lowered down into the cruel dirt-hole below.

I began to bawl and scream hysterically. I cried out to everyone there, but no one heard me. I felt my warm body touch the cold dirt…


“Jenny!!!! I demand you get up right now!” I sat up in my bed with a hurricane of chills running down my back. I was sweaty and clammy, and just totally freaked out. That dream had seemed so real, I could feel everything. I relived it in my head. Another set of chills stormed don’t my spine. Oh ma Gawd! I heard about this before, when you have dreams that come true, and you know because they’re totally vivid! Today was the day we were flying back to Wisconsin! I looked at my calendar just to make sure. Yup, we’ve been in Vancouver for two weeks now. What’s going to happen? “Jenny!!” my dad yelled again.

“One sec, dad!” I replied. I really hate this condo; it makes everything sounds much louder than it is.

I ran into the bathroom, and while I was brushing my hair I told my sister “… Yea and I was being buried alive!” I ended. “I really think it’ll happen. You know about those people that can have dreams that tell the future right!”

“Um…Jenny,” My 11 year-old sister started, “you’re kind-of being ridiculous. You’re just nervous, and I am definitely not telling dad.” What did she just say? She’s supposed to respect her elders, not ridicule them!

“Ugghhh!” I groaned, and stormed out of the bathroom, down the stairs of the condo, and into the kitchen.

I sat down to a barstool opposite my father. While my mother was putting the scrambled eggs on a plate, I took a deep breath of the sweet smell of the bacon alongside it, and said to my dad, “Can I see our flight tickets?”

“Sure, sweetie,” he said, but looked at me quizzically, because, after all, I have never had an interest in this stuff before.

I sweetly said, “Thank you,” took another breath, and looked down at the tickets. Yup, Flight 714, 1:00pm.

My hands became clammy, as I dared myself to speak. “Dad,” I said and repeated the whole dream once more. My father stared at me and walked over to my mom. They talked for a while, and they both sat down across from me.

“Well darling,” my mom started.

“You’re being ridiculous,” my father finished. “That will never happen.” By this point my sister had come downstairs, and stared at me with an ‘I told you so’ smirk on her face. It was time. I had to do this now.

I jumped out of my chair and into the hallway. I leaped over our luggage, grabbed the front door handle, and pulled the heavy wooden door open. By now my father was yelling, “Jenny!” over and over again. But his voice faded. I was already long gone.

Once I got to downtown Vancouver, which took about three minutes, I pulled twenty dollars out of my pocket. I had been saving this for the extreme. I moved towards a street vendor. “One ketchup dog and a Pepsi,” I said.

“Coming right up….” He said, though he eyed me warily. It wasn’t like anyone my age to be wandering the streets of downtown Vancouver alone.

He handed me my food, and I said “Thanks!” I moved through the pedestrians to a little park bench where no one was sitting. I sat down and picked up a crumpled newspaper off of the sidewalk. I pulled down my sunglasses, opened the newspaper, and began to read.

I looked at my watch. “Oh, it’s already 1:30,” I said. The old woman who had sat down next to me looked at my funny. I nodded and got up, quickly running off. I slowly opened the door off our condo, bracing myself for what was coming. My family was standing behind our luggage, each member madder than all get out. “Sorry…” I said, and grimaced.

“You are in so much trouble, young lady! Now I’ve got to buy new plane tickets…”


What the McAdams Family never knew: 3:30pm



In the Wisconsin airport, people were getting off a plane. First, a solemn couple holding hand with a little boy with one arm, followed by a man with an eye patch and overly gelled hair. And so one the list continued. In a dark room, the pilot was being interviewed. He was a monotonous man, with a scar above his eye, yellow stained teeth, and a Yankees cap. “So,” the reporter said, “What happened on that plane?”

“Well, it was all fine,” the pilot started, “the toilet was backed up, but that wasn’t a problem. Then we received word that there was a leak. We found out that slowly, the craft was getting heavier. We would have dropped straight out of the sky.”

“Oh my gosh, what did you do? How did you land safely?”

“Well, I navigated, and took us low in the sky, where it wouldn’t freeze as quickly. I was able to glide us safely here. We were light enough that it worked. It helped that we had some empty seats. There was a family of four that was supposed to be on the flight, but they were a no show. Between you and me, if there had been one extra ham sandwich on board, we wouldn’t have made it.”





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