Flying High | Teen Ink

Flying High

August 12, 2012
By Esperanza0220 BRONZE, Mesa, Arizona
Esperanza0220 BRONZE, Mesa, Arizona
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I was always scared about the idea of flying on a plane. Especially if I had to go without my family. This was only one of the many frightening fears that I had. This nightmare was about to come true when I was going to have to go on a class trip to Washington DC and New York. It was going to be my first time on a plane and I was going to be without my family. I was terrified. Part of my fear had to do with 9/11. I mean think about it. The people who were on those planes crashed into the twin towers and so many lives were lost. My fear was that if I did go on a plane something similar would happen, even though there was a one in a thousand chance of that happening. My sisters knew that I was scared to go on a plane and they made fun of me because of it. They had only been on a plane once and it was to a trip to California. I was going to have to go across the country by myself! Well, maybe not exactly by myself, because I was going with my school, but still. I was going without my parents. I was still attached to my parents at the age of twelve and I hardly went anywhere without them. Childish I know. But my experience on the plane was very eventful.

It was time for us to get onto the big white plane. I wanted to turn back and run away from all my fears, but that wouldn’t help. I had to face my fears. I took one step onto the carpet and my legs started to get shaky and my hands were trembling with fear. I kept on walking to find my seat. There were rows of three on either side of me. I had to watch were I was stepping because of all the luggage that was everywhere. As I passed each row I looked out of the small tiny windows and saw nothing but darkness outside. I finally found my seat. I sat in the middle seat between my comedian friend and my teacher. My friend is like a personal comedian. She makes up the funniest and randomness things to say. As we sat down she asked me, “Emily, where does the third class sit?”

“I think they sit up in the very front, why?”

“They don’t sit up there,” she responded, “The third class sits up on the roof. It’s the best seat you can have!”

I started bursting out with laughter! People were tired and were trying to sleep, and we would have kept on laughing, except our teachers told us to keep quite. Then it was time for take off. All the lights went out and everything was pitch black. Then came a low rumbling sound. We started to rise slowly and I felt like I was going to fall backwards in my seat. My stomach was all the way up to my chest, and my legs were not shaking anymore, but tensed up a lot. Of all the times that these thoughts had to come into my head it was now. My mid was over flowing with events about 9/11. What if we crashed into a building? What if the engine wouldn’t work? What if the plane turned over on its side? I tried to get rid of these thoughts by closing my eyes, but that didn’t help one bit because I just started visualizing the events.

When we were finally flying in the air, the plane started to tip over just a little bit to the left, and then just a little bit to the right. My body got tense again and I started to grab onto the seat and I didn’t let go of it, even though my hands did get a little sweaty. I was too scared to sleep and I was shaking all over. I was cold and the air conditioning wasn’t helping. At some point during the flight I tried to make myself comfortable so that I could try to fall asleep. I tossed and turned, changing my position every five minutes. Then a light bulb went off in my head. It wasn’t because I had an idea, but it had just occurred to me that my seat was not my bed. Nor was it any more comfortable than my bed. The seat was too hard and my seat was upright which made it difficult to rest my head. My neck started to hurt already. My teacher, who was sitting right next to me, broke my thoughts. “Emily is this the first time you have been on a plane?” My teacher asked. It took me a while to answer because I was debating whether or not to tell him. Finally, I made my decision.
“Yes, it is the first time,” I admitted to him.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s alright so far.”

LIE. Yes I know I lied, but I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t like it so far.

It seemed like forever before the plane landed at Chicago, Illinois. I had slept for about thirty minutes and I was really tired. When the plane started to land I got tense again. What if it didn’t land? What if it kept going? What if it crashed into the building? As the thoughts ran through my head the plane slowly started to land. Instead of feeling like I was going to fall backwards, I felt like I was going to fall forwards. As it started to get closer and closer to landing, I slowly began to relax. When the plane finally reached solid ground, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I stayed in my seat until my teacher told me I had to get off the plane. I eventually found myself walking on solid ground and I wasn’t too happy because I had to go on one more plane to reach Washington DC. As I started to walk to the next plane my legs were still shaking except now they felt like noodles and jello.

But now as I started to get onto the next plane, I slowly started to relax. I was with my friends, classmates, and teachers. I had not reason to really be afraid, I was with people I trusted and they were like my second family. I was going to get on this plane, have a great time on my trip, and come home safely. I had just proved to my sisters that I could fly on a plane. Even if they asked me if I was scared I was going to have to tell them no. I could prove to them that I could ride on a plane and not be scared at all. I had just made it halfway across the country and they had only gone one state next to Arizona. They may challenge me to different things, but right now I challenge them to fly on a plane across all fifty states. That’s a challenge I know I can win. I can beat them.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.