**WATTYS 2022 WINNER** Seventeen-year-old Evelyn Werth is on an endless flight from hell. She's the only person onboard Aloha Airways Flight 1333 who's caught in a 28-minute time loop.
During each cycle, four things happen:
1. The Internet goes out...
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Loop 2
I blink and the plane is perfectly horizontal, cruising along like nothing ever happened. Again.
My head swings to my left but the seat is empty. Evelyn's gone.
I swallow, my heart hammering in my chest. How were we just seconds ago plummeting to a certain death, and now everything is fine again, like nothing happened?
It's then I realize I'm listening to my music. I pull the earbuds out of my ears and stare at them, in utter shock.
Filtered air flows through the round vent overhead, and the cool jet tickles the side of my neck. I twist the nozzle clockwise, sealing it off, and lean my head against the window. The sun must've just dipped below the puffy clouds that carpet the air beneath the plane, flinging bright colors across the sky. Yellows, oranges, and the brightest of pinks. I stare at it, lost in the light show, my brain struggling to comprehend the incomprehensible.
How were my earbuds back in my ears?
What is happening to this plane?
"Sorry folks," the pilot's choppy voice rings out. "We've lost Internet connection. It will hopefully be back up soon. And please remain in your seats, we're approaching a patch of turbulence."
I straighten, suddenly alert.
Wait a second. Didn't he say the same thing, only a little while ago? A chill runs drunkenly down my arm. Like the same exact thing?
At once I'm on my feet, storming back the twelve rows until I'm standing at her row. In front of her – the one person on this flight who maybe has the slightest clue as to what the hell is going on here.
Evelyn Werth.
Sheglances up at me, her eyes heavy with worry. She immediately turns to Margaret and says, "Sorry, I need to sit here for a minute." Not waiting for a reply, she lifts Margaret's floral purse from the middle seat and hands it to her. Margaret begrudgingly takes it, as Evelyn shifts over a seat and motions me to sit next to her.
But I can't move.
My head swims, remembering how the pilot's words matched up identically like reflections in a mirror. I'm so unbelievably confused. My heart races so fast I'm growing dizzy. I'm fairly certain I'm approaching a full-fledged anxiety attack. The words spill out half pleading, half whimper, "You have to tell me what's happening here."
"You should sit," Evelyn says calmly in a matter-of-fact way, like whatever is happening on this plane is totally routine instead of royally jacked up. "Heather will be coming down the aisle and won't be happy to see you up."
"Heather?"
"The blonde flight attendant. The other two are Cheyanne and Lydia. Cheyanne's the older one. She's originally from Mauritius and has the most adorable twin granddaughters. And Lydia is the redhead with the meticulous French twist updo who's nursing a bad breakup. But Heather's my favorite," Evelyn replies, as if it was totally normal for a random passenger to know each of the flight attendants, and to have a favorite among them.
