The Thrust Of The Engine Pushed The Airplane Forward

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The thrust of the engine pushed the airplane forward. Small butterflies emerged in my stomach. Since my first time flying, I had always felt a high level of anxiety upon boarding. This particular flight was no different. However, my anxieties heightened by the news that Malaysian Airline fight 370 disappeared two days before. I tried my best to distract my anxieties with any irrelevant detail in my surroundings. I laid my head against the laminar tempered glass of the airline window. The faint chatter of the passengers surrounding me sounded distant. The pressurization system blew small whistles of cold air. I peaked in between the narrow crack of the seat opening in front of me. The passenger was a female. She couldn’t have been any older than me. The narrow lining only allowed me to see a side profile of her face. Her hair flowed down to her shoulders. Unlike me, her curls looked magnificent. It looked as if she spent hours making sure each curl had the perfect dimensions. Her hair was dark blonde with light wheat blonde highlights. I could see the swipe of her mascara pasting onto her eyeglasses every time she blinked. It was as if a woodwork carved every curve in her face. I quickly drew my attention to a pimple she had attempted to conceal on the lower portion of her chin. This insignificant imperfection reminded me she was human. I then felt a substantial relief. If I was meant to die today, I wouldn’t die alone. I had already been in Las Vegas for three days. I woke

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