Emily

A plane to Kuala Lumpur

I was in the queue waiting to board the plane. I could feel a swell of agitation bubbling up inside of me. My palms were beginning to sweat, my heart beginning to race and there was a slight dizziness to my head. I felt as though I was going to faint. Was it worth it really worth it to go through all of this? Is it really worth me getting on a giant metal death trap full of people heading to a country I knew so little about. With these thoughts swimming around my head my anxiety began to bubble up more. I put both my arms around my body and fell to the ground clinging for dear life to my knees. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to get on the plane but I had to. The plane ticket was in my hand. I had to peel myself off the floor and board the plane but my fear was all that encompassed me. I hear a voice behind me.

            “Get up” he ordered in an abrupt manner. “I can’t board the plane until you move.”

He looked at me with a flare of anger in his eyes at the inconvenience I had caused him. I wanted to tell him that I wish I could but I found myself unable to move, I felt as though I was glued to the ground.

            “Come on you need to move,” he ordered again in that distinctive gruff tone of his. At my reluctance to move he began to flap his brief case in agitation and shift uneasily from side to side.

As I still remained on the floor he began to move people apart to make way for his large girth to shuffle through I could only presume that this was to find someone to remove me from the calming place I had found amongst the deep grey of the polyester floor. I continued to hug myself, continued to apply pressure to my measly frame in the vain hope of taming the anxiety that was crushing me. With each panted breath and every tighter squeeze I began to feel my body slowly unclench. I blocked out the cloud of noise and began to feel as though I was floating. Floating through the liquid of my imagination at the endless possibilities that the final destination of this trip would lead me too. As I allowed my imagination to wander into a dream like state I felt my anxiety release from my body and float above me as though it was a cloud. A cloud that could be punched through and evaporate into nothingness and as it did I felt something a small glimmer that the shot through me. I felt hope, hope that I could accomplish what I set out a very long time ago to achieve but had mad not managed due to the fear that gripped me. But today with every motion, every movement, every word I strive to vanquish this fear. As the glimmer of hope resided within me I parted my eyelids and returned to the reality of the room and with hope by my side I slowly peeled myself off the floor until I resumed my normal status vertically. I then lifted my head ready to make my first movement into the possibility that could be when I saw the agitated gentleman from before moving at as swift a pace as his girth would allow towards me.

            “Time to move against the fear,” I expressed under my breath with a slow exhale. The man’s overbearing presence came inches away from me. I was completely in his shadow as though he wished to contain the fear within me. But the glimmer was still in me and no amount of darkness would be able to put it out now. As I after five years in the dark was ready to left the light through.

Aboard the plane I began to feel numb again. I managed to keep on walking the war smiling faces of the stewardesses began to reassure me as I clutched my ticked close to my chest and shuffled along the nylon carpet with discomfort. My eyes began to dart around the jungle of economy class. They shoved and pushed fighting to cramp themselves into their seats around me. I kept my eyes on the burgundy curtain as the chaos continued to loom, I narrowed my eyes, held my body straight and focused my weight into the ground as I moved towards the safety of the curtain and the lagoon that laid beyond. I had booked myself a ticket in business class over fear of the possibilities of economy class.

Anita

                                                                    A Business trip.

     A tall slim not unattractive woman was hoping from one foot to the other, the line had hardly mover in the last hour. Security was tight, they had already lost one plane on its way from Malaysia to Penang. Her feet were killing her, she was now wishing she had worn flats instead of heels. Not only did her feet hurt but she also had a back problem, and standing in heels did not help.

Finally she was getting closer to checking in, the line moved again. Thank god. The young man behind was complaining, It’s bad enough they charge so much to be cramed in like cattle, without standing in line for nearly an hour and a half. She looked at him and smiled.

Gail was travelling on business so she would be in first class not squashed next to someone she didn’t know in the economy. She was hoping to do a little work on her laptop during the flight. Now at the check in she handed the stewardess her passport. ‘’Business or pleasure’’ asked the stewardess? ‘’Did you pack your luggage? Has anyone else handled it, are you carrying any liquids’’ etc, etc. It went on and on. The stewardess handed her back he passport and boarding card and said in a sing song voice, ‘’have a nice trip.                                                                                                            ‘’Thanks said Gail’’, picking up her brief case walking toward security. At last she would be able to sit. Half an hour later she was at the gate waiting to board. First class and priority got to board first, she found her seat and sat down and buckled in. Closed her eyes and waited for the plane to depart. She must have drifted off to sleep as she felt a jolt as the plane lifted off. Unlike other people Gail had to sit upright because her back was too painful to relax, this made people who didn’t know her think she was a very rigid person, and that made them a little afraid to ask questions.

The flight would be around 13 hours to Kuala Lumpur nonstop. She would be able to get a lot done in that time. Gail rarely slept on planes although she had drifted off when she had first taken her seat. Two hours into the flight the family that sat opposite Gail stood up. The woman carried a three year old boy who was now causing a problem by shouting at his mother and hitting her, saying ‘’I don’t want to go’’!’’ Shush Josh, stop you are making too much noise, people are looking’’.                 ‘’Don’t care’’ said the child.

At the same time a man came through the first class cabin waving a gun telling everyone to sit down and be quiet. ‘’One sound and I will shoot you’’. The child stopped shouting. His mother carried him back to their seat. The man walked up and down then banged on the door to the cockpit, ‘’open up’’ he shouted. He sounded as if he had some kind of accent. He grabbed hold of the stewardess and told her to open the door. She refused, he shot her. Instantly everyone in the cabin started to scream or cry. At the same time another man came into the cabin and said something in a foreign language to the one with the gun. Obviously he was not happy.

He turned, looked at the steward and told him he needed to speak with the captain, ‘’Get him out here now.  If he doesn’t come out I will start shooting the people in the first class cabin, starting with this woman.’’ Gail being the type of person she was said, oh please, you aren’t going to do that, your bluffing.’’ He pulled the trigger, Gail screamed and woke with a jump. She had been dreaming, thank god it wasn’t so.

David

The ritual of the airport still numbed his mind after all this time. Here we go again played a loop inside his head. But this flight edged his normal tetchiness towards anger. They had overbooked Business Class and here he was inching his way forward towards the zoo of Economy Class with the other cattle. He seethed.
The girl in front of him constantly fiddled with her hair. He wished she would stop it. Her nervousness prickled him. She turned round as if aware of his irritation and attempted a smile, but it faded when she saw the depth of his frown. She snapped round again and stared ahead. The queue was taking forever to reach the plane door and the dimly lit safety of its cabin.
He thought of the journey ahead. Thirteen hours in a tiny seat. He knew his frame would jam into it. Thirteen hours of cramp. No peace. Noisy kids, stupid mothers, fidgeting lads who selfishly pitched their seats right back to trap him and then fell asleep for hours with loud snoring as a bonus.
She felt his anger on the back of her neck. No creepy breath or close sweaty warmth, just anger bordering on rage. He could snap at any minute she thought.The plane door approached, the smiling Malaysian faces of the stewardesses doing their best to reassure their guests.
Once inside the cabin he saw a sea of faces in hundreds of seats. A stewardess took his Boarding Card and pointed to his. He put his bag into the overhead locker and sat down with a disgruntled sigh, the seat arms already digging into sides painfully. He glanced to his right. There was the hair fiddling girl from the queue who, realising her bad luck, was staring straight ahead at the back of the seat in front. This journey was going to be hell they both thought. 

Patricia

The Journey:

She spotted them as she was leaving the Business Lounge. A woman in her thirties, bleached, blond hair, escaping from a scarlet ribbon, chosen, no doubt, to match her leisure wear, complexion and expensive, designer trainers. The woman was accompanied by three children (surely not all under five?), similarly attired, even the baby. The family's untidy pile of hand luggage and other paraphernalia tottered (surely in breach of recently-introduced restrictions?). Meanwhile, the children clamouring loudly for their mother's attention, succeeded only in drawing glances from those around.

She passed by, artfully smoothing down her tasteful, navy blue, crease-resistant skirt with one hand, whilst the other wheeled the neat, carry-on bag, newly-purchased for the trip to KL. Malaysia, a significant location for her company, and a significant contract for her to manage. Her mind drifted to the briefing papers, safely stored in her bag and conveniently placed for scrutiny during the hours of flight.

Her progress onto the aeroplane was quick, her documentation swiftly scrutinised. She noted with satisfaction the respectful use of her honorary title (surely worth all the effort involved in securing its award?). She acknowledged the flight attendant's greeting with a tight smile and made her way to her seat, carefully selected to maximise her privacy.

Settling herself down, she felt a warning ache over her right temple. She dismissed it for now, turning instead to arranging the space which would become her temporary office. Smartphone, iPad and black Moleskin notebook, together with her papers, were maximise ease of access. As she opened her email account for one last time, she heard them. The whinging, whining clamour of juvenile voices grew increasingly loud. A heavy, heady aroma of perfume, milk and something worse swept by, attached to hot, thunderous limbs. The pain shot through both eyes, temporarily blurring her vision. She murmured to herself. 'Surely not here? Surely not in Business Class?'.

Note:

My character is a 40 year old business woman, neat of appearance and obsessive in nature, who encounters a 39 year old mother, accompanied by three young children.

Aeroplane - Carol

‘It’s fine,’ she keeps telling herself. ‘Just like getting on a bus.’

And then, ‘Why on earth am I doing this? Why am I so extreme?’

Laura had tried to conquer her fear of flying many times before. Hypnosis hadn’t worked and she had abandoned the trip to Paris with her mother at the check-in desk. But she felt like this time was different. The day spent at the airport with the psychotherapist, cabin crew and pilot had been brilliant.

‘Aeroplanes just want to fly,’ the pilot had said, ‘it’s like poetry in the air.’

Laura had felt confident during the short afternoon flight they had taken. She had even taken her turn up at the cockpit.

Later, back home, she had thought ‘it’s now or never’, spinning the globe with her eyes closed. Her shaking finger landed on Malaysia with a lot more confidence than she felt now.  She looked at the small, functional plane door. Sterile and unfriendly. Unconcerned for her plight it seemed to shrink further.

The kids at school would have laughed to see her now. ‘Looks like miss is going to burst into tears.’

A pushy older woman behind Laura sighed loudly. ‘Could you hurry along please?’

Laura stepped into the shrinking tunnel of the plane. She shuffled down the aisle to her seat. The overhead lockers leered with their gaping mouths. She stopped to wipe her eyes.

‘Well are you going to sit down then?’ The bossy woman asked.

Laura shook as she sat down, her long legs cramped and uncomfortable in the tiny space. She folded them up like a daddy-long-legs. She stuffed her coat under her seat as the bossy woman plonked down next to her tutting.

Panicky thoughts were temporarily interrupted, as Laura thought, ‘she stinks, she can’t sit there.’

The woman was ‘large’ and sweaty. Out of the corner of her eye Laura could see stretch marks on her dimpled arms. ‘Her fat is invading my space, ‘ she thought unkindly, her claustrophobia bringing the worst out in her.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ The sweaty woman demanded eyeing the disintegrating tissue in Laura’s hand.

This flight was going to be unbearable. Two big women in a too small space. Bon voyage indeed.

Aeroplane - Stacey

Alan barely noticed his surroundings as he stood in the queue, inching towards the plane door. On a normal day he'd probably be riled by the length of time it was taking to board - and certainly by the gaggle of gap year students in front of him, horsing around, swinging their rucksacks perilously close to his head. On a normal day he'd have given them a piece of his mind.

Today though, he didn't have the heart for it. Maybe it was the two double whiskies he had downed in O'Malley's Authentic Irish Pub (though he doubted the actual 'Authenticity' of any establishment within recently-constructed Heathrow Terminal 5). More likely, it was the knot of grief in his Business Class belly. When had he crossed the line from being a skinny ginger youth - like these high-spirited lads in front of him - to being a greying, portly expatriate executive? He supposed it hadn't been a 'line crossed' as such, but a gradual process of attrition (or whatever was the opposite of attrition, maybe 'accretion' or something like that? As an engineer, he thought he ought to know this kind of thing...)

What he did know was that he was keeping up this internal stream of wittering to keep from thinking that this was the first flight back to Kuala Lumpur he had taken without her.

He peered towards the front of the queue, wondering what the hold-up was. The cabin crew (who appeared to be three Balinese goddesses slumming it on earth) were fussing over a young Malaysian boy, barely ten years old he guessed, who was trussed up in a three piece suit and tie. Bashful at the attention he was receiving, the boy stared down at the floor through severe spectacles. Alan was close enough to see that the glasses were black-rimmed and the eyes behind them ever so slightly red rimmed.

Alan thought of his own two children, whom he had left behind at their expensive boarding school. At least they would have each other, he consoled himself.

The Malaysian boy finally entered the plane and turned left, he noticed. Next up were the gap year gang, who couldn't hide their ogling of the goddesses and were hastily pointed right, towards Economy class, whereupon they couldn't hide their dismay at being 'bested' by a 10 year old boy. For the first time in ages, Alan allowed himself half a smile and turned left himself.