I watch as the animated map on my screen pops up. We’re just about 200 miles away from Savannah. We should be landing soon.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I turn to my left. The young man sitting in the aisle next to me is leaning over, looking around curiously.

“What’s going on?”

What an odd question.

“What do you mean?”

He raises his eyebrows, “The plane, what’s going on with it?”

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, groaning lightly. I may have made him upset.

“I was asleep, why is the plane going in circles?”

I turn to my right, looking past the older woman next to me, and glance out the window. The sky is bright and the clouds seem to be spinning.

Odd.

“We’re on our way to Savannah.” I say instead.

“Yeah,” he says a bit louder, “I get that, but why the fuck is the plane not actually going anywhere?”

Huh.

“I’m...not sure.”

I look at the map on my screen. We’re just about 200 miles away from Savannah. We should be landing soon.

My heart starts to race. My skin feels like its on fire, as if bugs were gnawing on my flesh in order to dig their way into my bloodstream. My chest hurts so bad; the oxygen feels curdled going down my throat. I look back at the young man, and find him wide eyed.

Every single person on the plane is looking at us. Not a single flight attendant or child or young couple is watching anything but us. Tears stream down their cheeks in order to dry unblinking eyes and the plane beings to hum. It vibrates in my bones and the acidic taste starts to leave my teeth feeling rotten.

The young man is crying too, face ping ponging back and forth between rows looking for something, anything, that will provide him relief from the sight before him.

The words crawl out of my mouth unbridled, “We’re just about 200 miles away from Savannah.”

Like a rubber band pulled too tight, each head snaps back into place. Joints crack from the speed and the hum shuts down instantly. I can’t hear anything. There is no sound.

The silence feels like a warning, a slap on the wrist. Don’t do it again or else.

Or else what?

I turn to look at the young man, who is gripping the arm rests so tight his finger nails rip into the padding. He seems to understand just as I do that we shouldn’t cause trouble. I’m not sure we were supposed to interrupt in the first place. I smile as wide as the plane will allow me.

“Don’t worry, we should be landing soon.”