I’ve Been Flying for almost Thirty Hours and The Flight Attendants Won’t Stop Crying

I don’t fly often, but I need to see my girlfriend for Christmas. I live near New York and she’s on the other side of the country in Seattle, so I have no choice. The flight is supposed to last about five hours. It’s been almost thirty. The flight attendants started crying almost ten hours in. At first, it was a low sob. A single flight attendant was weeping. I thought she had just gotten some bad news or was going through a tough time in her life, but then the rest of them started crying. “Ladies and gentlemen,” said the voice on the PA. “We will stop serving alcohol. Please fasten your seatbelts and return your seat to its upright position.” I looked out the window in confusion. Nothing was there. “What the…?” I muttered. “What the hell is going on?” a man asked next to me, popping out of his seat. “How are we still in the air? Where’s the captain? Where is everybody?” “I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve been in the air for ten hours!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “I’ve flown from New York to London in less than that!” “I know,” I repeated. “Is the captain okay?” A woman in the front row added. “Did something happen? Did we, like, take a wrong turn or something?” “I don’t know,” A flight attendant said, mascara dripping down her cheeks. “I don’t know.” “Ma’am,” the man next to me said, slowly sinking back into his seat. “Please. Calm down. We’re scared. If you tell us what’s going on, we’ll feel better.” “Oh my gosh,” I said. “What?” the man asked. “I saw the pilot at the beginning of the flight,” I said. “He looked really stressed out.” The flight attendant started wailing loudly. “Can we go talk to him?” The man asked calmly. “Maybe he needs help. You can’t just leave your post in the middle of a flight. I’m going to go check on him.” The flight attendants didn’t stop him. They just kept crying. The man walked down the aisle toward the front of the plane. I watched him go, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t fly much because I have a panic disorder. Being on a plane is terrifying to me. I’m on Xanax right now. A double dose. After a moment, the man who went looking for the pilot didn’t come back. The woman in the front row got out of her seat. “I’m going to see what’s going on,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” someone said. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. A few more people followed her. I wanted to go too, but my medication made me feel groggy and I didn’t want to move. “Sir,” a young woman said, tapping me on the arm. “Sir, I’ve been flying for over ten hours. Where are we?” “I don’t know,” I said. “Sir, please tell me. I’m really scared.” “I don’t know what to say,” I said. “I’m scared too.” “What?” she said. “What’s wrong with you people? We’ve been in the air for over ten hours! What the *fuck* is going on?” “I don’t know,” I said. A flight attendant started laughing. “What’s funny?” the young woman said. “Nothing is fucking funny. Where is your * fucking captain?*” “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll go check on the pilot,” someone said. “I’ll go check on the pilot.” Five more people went to go check on the pilot. When we hit fifteen hours, I knew we were in trouble. People were starting to lose it. Some of them were hitting the flight attendants. Others were calling the police. We were all calling the police. I started to feel a creeping sense of panic. A sense of doom. Something was very, very wrong. “Sir,” I said to the man next to me. “Sir, I don’t think we’re on Earth anymore.” “Don’t say that bull shit,” he snapped. “Don’t even say that.” Almost thirty hours have passed. I’ve been in the air for almost thirty hours. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know why this is happening to me. The flight attendants won’t stop crying. I looked out the window. I can’t see anything. I only see blackness.

I’ve Been Flying for almost Thirty Hours and The Flight Attendants Won’t Stop Crying

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