Clipped Wings

And now I sat in my living room with a person who listened to me scream bloody murder at night, and I was debating whether I should tell her about the event that had changed the course of my life. I wanted absolution for my transgressions.

In a moment of weakness I flipped my laptop open. Showing Sarah would be easier than telling her, and I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. I needed someone to know, and Sarah was safe. I could reveal only as much as was necessary for her to understand. It took seconds for pages of articles detailing the crash to pop up on the screen:

“Plane Crashes Near West Coast: Only Thirteen Survivors”

I clicked the link. The grainy image that accompanied the article spoke to the devastation. The plane had crumpled like an accordion in an almost cartoonish way. The external destruction had paled in comparison to what had happened on the inside. I turned the monitor toward Sarah, and her curiosity changed to horror. When her eyes welled with tears, I looked away. I couldn’t handle her pity.

She scrolled down the screen, one hand over her mouth, the other clicking furiously as she sca

There was silence for a few minutes while she read the article. “You were on your way to your own wedding?”

“I didn’t want a big fuss, you know?” I thought back to when I proposed the idea, spi

“It was only going to be our close friends and family. I would have been happy going to town hall to sign the papers, but our mothers would never have gone for that. A destination wedding seemed like the perfect compromise . . . more of a family vacation than anything else, really. We’d known each other since we were kids. All our friends were co

“One of the engines blew and the pilot couldn’t recover control. The only survivors were the people at the front of the plane. Some of the crew and a few passengers made it out alive. Co

Sarah looked stu

“We could have had something small at home . . .” I closed my eyes, afraid to disclose the fears that plagued me.

“You know it’s not your fault, right? You couldn’t have known what would happen.” Sarah’s hand settled on top of mine.

I forced a smile, feeling raw. It was my fault.

When he asked me to marry him, it never occurred to me to say anything but yes, even though I had reservations. He was such a constant in my life, and we’d been so close for so long, that I couldn’t fathom changing things. I was comfortable in the security of Co

“It must have been awful.”

There was no way to reconcile with the horror of plummeting from the sky, surrounded by terrified people while spiraling toward imminent death. Only mine hadn’t come. I told the only truth I could. “I survived.”

I hadn’t seen my life flash before my eyes. It had been the couple across the aisle, gripping each other’s hands tightly, that had captured and held my attention. Their love for each other had been so transparent. As the plane had gone down, I’d been overwhelmed by an aching sadness because I would never know that. Even if Co

Against all odds, I lived and everyone else was gone.

I shut the laptop and went to the kitchen to get the wine.

“To survival,” Sarah said sadly, clinking her glass against mine after I filled them. She gulped down the contents and poured another immediately. I followed her lead.

The air was acrid with the smell of burning fuel, fabric, plastic, and another sickly sweet odor. I wretched.

Stabbing pain shot through my pelvis and down my leg, making my whole body ache when I moved. It was impossible to focus on anything outside of the physical agony.

I turned my head toward the couple seated across from me. Through the smoke I could see the shallow rise and fall of the man’s chest. Overhead compartments lay wide open; personal belongings vomited violently about the cabin. The oxygen masks hung like victims of mass suicide, swaying slightly in a breeze that should not exist within the confined space.

The plane had crashed. And I was alive. I needed to get out. With shaky, uncoordinated fingers I unclasped the seat belt. My body felt leaden as I hoisted myself up and stumbled awkwardly to the couple across the aisle. My right leg wasn’t working right. Pain radiated through me, robbing me of vision, but I had to move. Death was everywhere.

Gently, I shook the man’s shoulder. He moaned before he opened his eyes and turned to his wife.

“Muriel?”

She was bone white, her eyes closed, chest still. He ran a finger over her cheek.

“Sir, we have to get off the plane,” I said softly and tugged on his arm.

He shook his head. “I’m staying.” Though he was breathing, his eyes were dead. He was already a ghost.

I stumbled away, passing from the safety of the first-class cabin into the chaos and destruction that made up coach. There was so much blood. I gagged on the smell of burning flesh and freshly spilled life. My stomach heaved, and the contents spilled out into the aisle in front of me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the horrific scene before me, passengers broken and trapped between collapsed seats. Bodies were strewn about in haphazard disarray, limbs bent at u