mercy of the pilots. I felt the ground, or I guess the water, continue to get closer. As if my seat was lowering towards the fl oor of the plane. It was a sinking feeling. We had to be just a few minutes from the crash landing. Soon the fl ight attendants started chanting over and over again that it got old: “Brace brace brace! Heads down stay down!” This went on for several minutes as if they didn’t think we would remember it. Then the captain came on the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, brace for impact.” My heart sunk deep into my gut. As I was bracing myself sweating like I never had before, it hit. As the massive plane plunged into the river, it felt like slamming on the breaks in a car, times ten. Through the window, it fi rst looked like the plane was underwater, but then the water cleared, and we were fl oating peacefully. I could not believe I was alive. Instantly, everyone shot up out of their seats and were scrambling, scooched together like a herd of cows. The next fi ve minutes turned into a blur. I remember everyone screaming and eventually stepping out of the plane into the cold january colorado winter, then onto the wing. The process seemed scruffy and unorganized, but eventually, the crew had several life rafts infl ated and everyone was in one. “Hey you!” Yelled a fl ight attendant who was on the other side of my raft. “Grab the oar down by your leg and help me row us ashore.” And that’s exactly what I did. As we came ashore, I heard the distant sound of a chopper, and a minute later it was soon hovering over what had just taken place. “Wake up Tom!” My whole body shot up to see my roommate looking at me like I was psychotic. “You slept through your alarm,” he murmured. With my heart pounding, I quickly gathered my things and headed to school, not knowing if I could make it through the day. It was on this day that I survived my worst nightmare.
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