“Good evening, folks. This is your Captain speaking. We are expecting some, uh, slight turbulence ahead. Buckle in and hold on tight.”

I knew something was fucked from the jump. We had not been flying for more than fifteen minutes and yet I could feel the angst in the pilot’s voice. I don’t know how. Maybe it was just my nerves. Maybe it was the inflection on ‘buckle.’ Maybe the gulp after ‘hold on tight.’ Something wasn’t right.

“Turn off the damn intercom.”

That bit sealed it. The captain never cusses. The passengers' gasps all confirmed as much. The flight attendants hustled. Bring the fuckin’ ruckus, my Spotify shuffle agreed, something was about to happen.

"Is it off?"

I’m home now, I’m safe, somehow. But in that moment it’s easy to condemn yourself for what could have been fatal mistakes. I hated flying. I never would have flown on my own to begin with if my boss didn’t insist on traveling for an off-site. I never would have fought with my wife beforehand if I didn’t have to go in the first place. I shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening to me. Shouldn’t somebody see that? Shouldn’t somebody be keeping track? Those thoughts raced through my mind a mile a minute.

"Hold it."

The plane vibrated. People screamed. I couldn’t even bear to look out the window but the slanted horizon line danced across my eyes. A mother in the back row held a wailing infant. I plugged my ears just to block it all out, but it was no use, their voices bled through.

“Switch the fucking engine, Gill.”

The plane dipped. The luggage chutes opened. Oxygen masks deployed. More screaming. A man in a black jacket held on tightly to a little girl with a Paw Patrol blanket. The woman beside me started to pray. I didn’t recognize the religion, or the language, but it felt fitting given the circumstances. I bowed my head in silence.

“We’re diving. We are diving, Gill.”

I prayed for my wife. I prayed for my sisters. I prayed for all of the friends and family who would have to bury a box without a body. I knew that would be hard for them. I never planned to die so young. Never saw it coming by a landslide. But in the moment, it felt right, you know? Like it was my time. Like it always meant to go that way. Thousands of feet above the ground without a single loved one by my side and I accepted that my entire world would soon be ripped apart.

“Spin it, Gill, spin the fuckin’ thing!”

My environment became a tornado of body parts and hurled luggage. The drink cart slipped out of the arms of a screaming hostess in first class. The momentum of the spins took it into the air. Hundreds of pounds of hulking metal hurdled across the cabin like a battering ram. Eventually it connected with an older gentleman six rows back. His face exploded on impact. Not everyone saw that, in the chaos, but I did.

Another stomach wrenching spin brought it back around.

“One more! We’re almost fucking there. Almost there. Hold it, Gill, spin! SPIN!!”

Just as suddenly as the action started, it stopped, though the screams certainly did not. The drink cart fell and landed in the aisle. The rogue luggage dropped and smacked some of the passengers in the aisle seats.

The stewardesses got up and quickly attended to the chaos.

I counted at least five bodies that didn’t move.

“Hello?” I asked no one in particular. “Hwello”

I tried to speak and the words came out all wrong. I put my finger to my lip and came back with a handful of blood. I didn’t remember getting hit.

“Sir?” someone said.

“Are we still in the air?” I asked the void.

“Sir?” a softer tone this time.

I heard the stewardess’s voice but couldn’t see her face. My waning attention fixated on a point across the cabin.

“Are you okay?”

Most of the passengers shut their side windows at the start of the turbulence. But one of them slipped back open in the chaos. All the way at the end, at the bottom of one in particular, a pale green light shone through. Something about that light drew me like a moth to flame.

“Do you need medical attention?”

I unclicked the seat-belt and got up out of my chair. I needed to investigate further. I suppose the window closest to me would have been easier… but the thought never entered my mind. The stewardess followed me, calling out impatiently from behind.

“Sir? Are you a doctor?”

I edged past the bloody pools and bewildered folks attending to the numerous injuries through the cabin. The light reflected a rainbow of sorts on the opposing wall. But the formation of the colors was all wrong.

“Sir. I’m going to have to ask that you sit down.”

I leaned over a bewildered woman with a gash on her forehead. I heard a commotion as she tried to move out of my way. I didn’t care. I just wanted to see the light. That sweet, beautiful, magnificent light. I had never seen anything like it. I pulled back the window shade. A symphony of blues of grays and pinks erupted through the glass. My skin felt alive, like every pore opened, like every disease disappeared in an instant.

“What is it?” my new seat-mate moaned. “It’s wonderful.”

People gasped at the beauty of the moment. All of them.

“Folks. This is your Captain speaking. Forgive me. I don’t quite know how to say this. For the first time ever, humanity has exited this existing plane, and come out of it alive on the other side.”

And then they started to scream.