anagapesis

(2) familiar strangers

• chapter two •

My eyes widened.

His eyes widened.

I sunk back down in my seat, gulping in oxygen since my lungs clearly weren't doing a good enough job. I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe-

I looked down out of the window, the faint outline of my figure reflected back at me. I took the time to look over every familiar groove and line in my face, my brown eyes, my gold hoop earrings that I hadn't taken off since I was a kid unless to clean. My bushy eyebrows that I so hated but were dearly familiar to me, my favourite claw clip holding my hair back that I wore whenever I studied. I could feel my hands gripping the soft material of my seat, clenching it so hard that my knuckles turned white.

Familiar.

Sometimes when you feel yourself disconnecting, you need to take a deep breath and find something familiar. Something real to cling to.

Huh. Maybe my therapist wasn't so useless after all.

The sun had set over an hour ago, plunging the world outside into a pool of black. There was nothing but dark blue ocean in every direction - north, east, south, west, you name it. It was beautiful, in a way. Hauntingly beautiful.

We were screwed. Totally, utterly, screwed.

We're all alone. We're not making it to my grandparents house. We're too far gone to turn back now. I won't receive my results for the exams I just sat. I won't ever be in my bedroom again, being a silly little teenage girl and blasting music and being delusional. I won't be spending summer with my best friends, eating ice cream on the beach and flirting with cute guys.

I wonder if they'll make our deaths quick and painless.

I sucked in another deep breath.

Now that I think about it, I must have imagined all of this. It's so silly - I mean, why on earth would a random hijacker know my name? It seems more plausible the more I dwell on it: yes, I simply thought he was attractive and yearned for his attention. That's why I think he said my name when he didn't. He couldn't have.

A small smile embraced my lips at this newfound realisation. I ever-so-slightly lifted myself up to see over the seats to confirm my theory.

He wasn't even looking my way. He was incessantly patting the shoulder of the buff man with the moustache - who he shared a striking resemblance with. That must be his father.

See. He didn't say anything - I just created the whole scenario up in my head.

The man immediately stopped talking and turned towards his son. He looked irritated to have been disrupted from whatever he was saying.

I think he was talking to us. The thing is, I would have heard what he was saying if I hadn't been so focused on his son. I shook my head to myself again, scolding myself under my breath.

Stupid Rhea.

The man quickly nodded at his son after casting a look in my direction, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.