Page 1
GASP. I wake up gasping for air, “Ugh, hah”. I reach for my mouth to rip off my mask. It tears off easily and I place it on the empty seat beside me. Deep breaths, I think to myself.
The Boeing 777 cruises across the sky without much effort as the two turbo-fan engines whine outside the craft. I sink back into the economy-class seat and try to relax my muscles. The craft is quieter than usual. The lights are off, the windows are down, the cabin crew are nowhere to be seen. This is bliss. With only the random bright light being turned on three rows ahead, the flight is rather dormant. Navy light reflects off the soft oceanic carpet down the aisle onto the hull of the craft.
I turn to the empty seat on my right to see what went wrong with my mask. Picking it up, the thin yet soft covering of the seat brushes against my hand. The mask is slightly rugged and looks like a fighter pilot’s mask with extra parts. Two small filters stick out like what you would find on a biohazard mask. Ironically, it is meant to filter out oxygen, but tonight, it seems that the filter has filled. Damn. I take my sleeve and wipe my face. It seems that I was sweating throughout the night.
I fumble with the seat belt and rise to reach the over carriage. After a few painful minutes of searching, I manage to locate another two fresh filters from my bag.
Page 2
After encountering all the snacks and electronics inside my bag, which hindered my search, my vision starts to haze around the edges. As I put the two filters into place, the crumbs of cheese and onion crisps fall onto my lap. Jeez. I equip the mask and grab hold of a minute lever beneath the right filter. Here it goes, again. Whipping the lever back, I clench my teeth as a fire sears through my neck. “Agh, huh, hah, hu.” I fight to control my breathing, the craft hits some turbulence, shaking the seats and waking a few individuals. Some moan in pain from sitting in one position for hours on end, while others get up to stretch or use the restroom.
Things start to clear up. Finally, I can think. What time is it? Staring at the in-flight entertainment screen, I find the four digits that dictate our daily lives. 04:43. ETA: 06:12. Ugh, an hour and a half left. Heaving myself to the restroom, I reach for the part of the mask beneath the filters and tug it. It pops out with a click, exposing my ingestion utensil. I take out my brush and attempt to keep my oral hygiene. The minty taste is one of the few things left over that I relish the most in this world. Water floods my mouth and I spit out the water and foam mixture. The rough bath towel reaps at my skin, absorbing any misplaced water. The reflection on the mirror in front shows a teen already fed up with life. Well, can’t argue with that. My teeth bare and start tearing at my lips. Habits, what the hell are they for?
I return to my seat; “huuuh”. Letting out the air in my lungs really does help. Sometimes, it is the small things that go a really long way in keeping a guy’s sanity.
Page 3
Placing the filter section back on, I pick up the controller for the in-flight entertainment system and start playing a version of snake. After a round, I pull my blanket around me, congesting precious heat, and continue playing. I started to play my way through all the games, including the LAN chess. In this version of chess you can challenge other passengers to a game. Worth a shot.
I play a few games and win most of them. Alright, one more game of this and then I’ll watch something. The opponent pulls off the usual trick of using a knight to target two pieces, the queen and the bishop on the opposite side. My bishop retaliates and checks the king. I need to keep checking his king in order to keep taking other pieces and removing that knight from my queen.
Time passes and I have his king in check for the sixth time in a row. This forces my opponent to finally move his knight in front of an attacker. The screen flares up and displays the word ‘stalemate’ in bright blue. What? I glance at the pieces and find that there is a rook covering the back row, and since I moved my king up front, his king and my king can’t move at all. His pawns are all up against mine and the one knight left has to cover the king’s flank as there is a bishop halfway across the board. Stalemate.
Page 4
A splitting shriek fills the cabin. It’s a girl’s voice. The voice continues to fill my head “Hey, that’s not fair, I should have won that, I had a counter attack ready to hit you with.” I turn my head to be greeted by a short girl who has jumped onto her seat and started shouting. “Show yourself, opponent!” I pick up a pillow from beside me and launch it at her with significant velocity. The pillow impacts her face and sends her back to her seat. Someone had to shut her up. Back to the screen, it now displays “Rematch? Your opponent would like a rematch.” pfft, why not.
I pick up the controller and begin another match. Things are going well. I have forced his king into a corner. Well, it seems that it’s a she. So I have forced her king into a corner. Her bishop moves next. Wait, what? The bishop takes a pawn of mine and blocks one of my rooks aimed at his king. The large blue words flash up on screen again. Stalemate, again. My eyes narrow down to the rematch button again. Damn she’s determined. So much for a 14 year old. My finger hovers over the button. Then it strikes the hard plastic piece.
Four stalemates, I don’t know how but four stalemates. Another shriek fills my head. It’s that same girl, can’t you just shut up. It’s only a game. I pull the blanket closer to preserve what little heat I have and resume browsing the movies available in flight. The turbulence kicks in again and the craft dives for a second putting the passengers into sub-integer Gs. The contents in my stomach, which is barely any, start to heave around, and my hand instinctively reaches for my mask. Just breath. After about ten minutes, I feel well again.
Page 5
A shadow looms over me as a man approaches my seat. An old man replaces that shadow and bows to me.
“Greetings and apologies for the girl that was shouting.”
“Are you her guardian?”
“Well, it’s complicated but for now, yes”
“You gotta keep that girl under control.” And that’s when I finally see it. An expression I haven’t seen in a long time: the breaking point. His face crumpled up just that little bit more. His body is a little more tense. His right foot took a subtle back step. He is a broken man. “Hey man, you alright?” He looks up, a little less tense, and begins to smile.
“Yes, everything is fine.” Nope, that man is not fine, I can see right through that facade. No, wait, it’s gone. What the, there’s not a single sign of worry. Is he hiding it? How can he hide it so well?
“I don’t know but I have my doubts, you take care.”
20,000 Words 