Mind to Metal

Chapter 11

Three years earlier...

My eardrums fluttered at the sound of footsteps approaching my bed. The door shut. A delicate hand gave my arm a squeeze. Her thumb made circles on my skin.

"Honey?" I could have pretended to be asleep. It might have been easier than prying my eyes open.

"Yes, Mom," I responded. My words are slow and drowsy. My eyes crack open enough to let a peep of light in. I imagined myself looking like a newborn child who constipated or a teenager who was hungover. To a Mom, it was a sign her daughter was still kicking.

I heard her sigh with relief. "Oh Honey, how are you feeling?"

I attempted to move but found it unbearable and every part of me felt heavy. My head was secured in a head brace. I strained my eyes to see her face.

"What happened?"

Her eyes filled to the brim with tears. She reached to hold my hand. I gave it a squeeze in return. Her lips quivered as she composed herself.

What could be wrong? Why am I in this bed with a head brace? How long have I been here? Hours or days?

My body tensed when no matter how I tried, my legs wouldn't move. I began to breathe radically. At the same time, I watched as the monitors speed up, glitch, and then they had a mind of their own. It was a feedback loop where the more the machines malfunctioned, the more afraid I became, leading to the machines malfunctioning more. My head ached as everything about me seemed out of control. My Mom talked soothingly and tamed the fear inside of me.

Doctors rushed into save the day. They checked my vitals and gave me a dose of sedative. My heart slowed, and my body found homeostasis. I stared at my Mom with wide, teary eyes.

She answered my original question with, "Something terrible. Something terribly wrong."

It was then that my doctor explained my brain injury and my new disability. What I didn't know was that my life ahead had more changes than my physical condition. Something was awake inside me that caused the medical equipment to short circuit. The raw ability was restless to be tamed.

Current Day

Saturday afternoon I used my computer to research the plane crash anew. I scrolled through news outlets before selecting an informative clip. My earphones blocked most outside noise. I tested them to make sure she couldn't hear. Then, I sneaked a look at Saturn but found her lying lazily on the couch.

A somewhat fuzzy image of a woman appeared on my screen.

"This is Anna Paula and here is your nightly report.

"Officials claimed it had been a regular day of training. Ben Harris and other AirForce soldiers climbed into their helicopter or fighter jet. For the lower ranking students, they were supposed to practice taking off and landing. For students such as Mr. Harris, they were allowed to practice coordinating the gears and different settings in their aircraft. Mr. Harris was one of the two last pilots in the air. When the two were radioed to land, the first obeyed while Ben Harris ignored the order. As observed from soldiers watching from beneath, Mr. Harris's plane actually went away from the landing area, heading toward the edge of the base.
Officers made a sterner radio message that demanded Mr. Harris land the aircraft. Mr. Harris's response was that he wasn't able to.

"As remembered, Ben Harris said, "I cannot control the steering. I cannot increase or decrease the plane's altitude. I repeat, I have lost control."

"After a group of officers directed Mr. Harris to fix the control system, the result was the turning on and off of the helicopter's lights and other seemingly useless functions. With time, the machine grew more out of control. It lost its ability to fly in a steady line. Its speed increased tenfold. The temperature inside of the cabin became unbearably hot. During the last moments, the radio signal seemed to be upon the brink of cutting out completely with Ben Harris still in the helicopter. The group of officials and Mr. Harris made every attempt to forcefully crash the aircraft with no luck.