Creative Writing: Flight 376

“Last calls for flight 376!” The intercom screeched through the Chicago O’hare airport speakers. This was the first time I had been in an airport. My mother holding tightly on my young hands, dragged me quickly through the terminal-- dodging the other passing people. The rest of my family rushed not far behind us. As we arrived to our gate, the flight attendant asked my mother for our boarding passes, and she pulled them swiftly out of her purse. Next thing I knew, we were storming down the tarmac onto our plane. I could hear muffled sounds of engines whirring from below me. Inside the plane, I noticed the first class passengers seated-- some wearing headphones, cuddling in blankets, or beginning what seemed to be a quick nap. As we moved

“Very soon,” my mother replied holding my hand tightly. She smiled, making me feel a small amount of safety. The plane started to move slowly, backing up out of the gate. My heart started racing quickly. As we travelled across multiple runways preparing for our flight, I sat in my seat nervously. I was frightened because I had no idea what was about to happen. I could barely hear nearby chatter from other passengers over the loud sounds of the engines whirring. There was no turning back now. Suddenly, the plane turned around a corner and aligned parallel to the yellow lines on the runway. Without hesitation, the plane jolted it’s speed and buzzed across the runway. The plane shook and vibrated as it’s wheels spun in thousands of circles. My body was forced back into my seat making me unable to move a muscle. Outside the window, the land moved swiftly past us.

I felt the ground lift from underneath me. My stomach felt like it was floating for a few seconds. I peered eagerly out of the window and saw how the ground began to get smaller. Trees and buildings that used to tower over me, began to cower under my height. Gradually they disappeared into small dots and now all I could see were landforms. All that was visibly below the plane was rivers connecting into the lakes, tall hills, and Chicago’s