Something In My Soul, Emma Harris

SHORT STORIES & CHAPTERS

GRIFFIN ALM, 11

WITH my nerves fi nally starting to calm down, I sat comfortably in my seat, and started to doze off. I was then awakened by a gradual high pitch whining noise, followed by an extremely loud bang, shaking the plane and instantly sending everyone into a state of severe panic. I looked out the window and could not believe my eyes. The right engine was covered in fl ames. I felt the force from the thrust it no longer pushed. Then in half a second, the fl ames instantly went out, followed by black smoke coming out of it. I looked at Bob and Joe, who were sitting next to me absolutely terrifi ed. While everyone was staring and gasping at what had just happened, the captain perfunctorily came on the intercom, “Folks, unfortunately we’ve experienced an engine malfunction… uhhh, the plane will still fl y on one engine, we will be landing at the nearest airport very soon, we’re very sorry for the inconvenience.” I was almost scared by how casual and unconcerned the captain seemed with this predicament. I knew in my head that the pilots are more than trained for situations like this, but at the same time the rest of my body was shaking. Having been afraid of fl ying my entire life, this was the fi rst time in years that I had decided to try again. Bob and Joe convinced me, since we would have had to make the long treacherous drive through the mountains in order to get to Denver for our ski trip. While still panicked, I also started to calm down and accept the situation for what it is. My biggest concern was that we were over the Rockies, with no chance of any suitable place to land if the other were to fail. And it was at this time that my worst nightmare came true. Bang! Went the other engine, shaking the entire plane again, as we were all pushed forward by the deceleration. The captain came on the intercom once again: “Folks, we have experienced another engine failure. We are currently over the mountains, with no suitable landing space other than the river. We will be making a water landing in about 20 minutes.” I knew it was over. I felt a strange sense of calmness as death was at the front door. But there was so much I hadn’t done yet with my life. “It can’t be over”, I thought to myself. This impelled me to shift my thoughts more toward survival, even though I knew what was about to happen. Yet the pilots, or at least the pilot speaking did not seem severely concerned, only slightly more than when the fi rst engine had failed. I had read too many stories of people dying in water landings either from the impact, or hypothermia. I could see the ground getting closer. But even more so, I could feel it. My vision seemed to narrow on the seat back in front of me. It became blurry. My thoughts immediately went to what my friends had told me about how safe fl ying is. “It’s way safer,” Joe would say. He had a habit of being empathetic and often overly logical. Bob, my other friend who was my roommate, was super impatient, and I knew he would be annoyed by the long drive. But regardless of how he said it, I knew fl ying was safer. If I actually were to use any sort of realism when making the judgement of whether or not to fl y, that I would decide fl ying is safer. “Plus, the drive through the mountains would be super long and treacherous.” “Fine, whatever.” I would say. Even after making the decision to fl y, I also knew that driving would give me control over the situation, which was what I desperately wanted right now. But now I was at the full 17