Monday, October 20, 2014
It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh Field. As my family and I are waiting to board our plane, a sense of uneasiness came over me. I express my concern to my father but, he reassures me everything will be fine. But still, I had such a negative feeling about boarding that plane. Our flight number was called along with the gate number. My parents began gathering their bags. I was hesitating. I knew something bad was going to happen and I was not going to allow my family on the plane. My parents began to show great frustration when I refused to board the plane. They did not understand why I was refusing to board to plane since I had flown countless times. I expressed to them how I felt as though some thing very bad would happen if we got on that plane. I begged them to take a later flight. Unwillingly, they agreed. As we waited for our evening flight, my family and I were grabbing something to eat. On one of the televisions over head in the airport, I had noticed a breaking news segment on the news. It was about a plane crash that had happened earlier that morning. My parents looked at me in disbelief. My Dad was trying to find out the flight number. Surely enough it was our flight. I was just as shocked as they were. How did I know something was going to happen to the plane? Why did I know but no one else did? A sense of panic came over me. Was this how I was going to be for the rest of my life? Am I always going to know something will happen before it does?