Holiday Hell

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He sunk himself back into his seat, apologetic as ever for his mistake. After the air hostess had hobbled off, his head began to bash against the back for a solid few seconds. Frustration and hatred ran its course through his fiery blood. He didn't know what to-do. He didn't know what to say. Disbelief didn't even begin to cover it.

It wasn't possible, surely, that she was actually... her. He concluded that somehow, in some bizarre, illogical way, that his mind was playing tricks on him. Of all the planes in the entire world, why did she have to be on this one? This was the sort of thing that only ever happened in movies. Those dub romantic comedies she would often force him to endure when they were together. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Boy and girl break up. Boy and girl meet again by nothing but the forces of universe. Boy and girl get back together. End of story.

But this wasn't a movie that was destined to have a happy end. This was real life and the feeling of butterflies he was supposed to have under circumstances like this been replaced by an underlying sense of pure dread. He wanted to be sick with the anxiety. His knees were shaking up and down like a feral dog; he didn't know what do with his arms. Nothing felt right and there was no escape now. He was trapped on this endless flight, headed to a holiday that he wanted to be a form of escapism for him. He was on his way to his own personal jail cell with his worst nightmare.

The plane was preparing for take-off. It was a rocky start and the second the plane left the ground, a sour feeling of sickness washed over him. He couldn't stomach it. His face went all sweaty and gross and he cringed as his ears popped. He let out a quiet dispel of pain, and felt humiliated that he could even utter his discomfort. Jenn offered him a side glance and offered out her hand, only half-sarcastically. Ashamed, he declined with the shake of his head. He didn't need someone to comfort him right or make fun of him. He wanted to be alone; he wanted to be alone in his bed where the whole world couldn't get to him. He had given up on his adventures and desires to travel. He wanted nothing more but turn back time and tell his past self to stop being a stupid i***t and spend all that money he had wasted on booze and video games and takeaway pizza. That didn't result in this same unbearable fear he was facing at that moment. In an alternate universe, he was asleep right now on the sofa, passing out after watching too many trashy reality TV shows. He envied the version of him that didn't exist. He didn't know what he was supposed to do - what the real version of him was meant to do.

Minutes passed and the seatbelt sign flickered off. The click and release of belts echoed throughout the space. They were all free from being tied down to their seats, but were limited to their options of where they could go. They could walk down the narrow aisles or visit the toilet but that was it. They were suspended in the air until the pilot who carried all of their lives in their hands said they could return to the earth they lived on. It was a strange yet accepted experience.

"You can go over now," urged Jenn. Her curiosity would have seemed suspicious to any other, but to him it was simply an annoyance. He wished that he hadn't have opened up to her. He wished he could have kept his stupid mouth shut, just like he would have on any other day of his social awkwardness and sheltered personality. Why couldn't she just keep her nose out?"

"I..." he began. He didn't know what he was going to say. He was lost for words completely. Redness flushed into his freckled cheeks and he receded back into himself. His body physically shrank as he hid himself further into the seat.

"Stop freaking out. What's the worst that could happen? She don't bite, do she?"

He didn't really want to answer that question, so he didn't.

She had to search his eyes for the answer and his lack of response made her raise her eyebrows. "A biter? Oh, really? Yikes. Had a few girlfriends like that. It's nice but after a while it's like having a little Chihuahua who won't back down."

Her rambles were something of a comfort to him. It allowed him to drown out his own horrific thoughts and slowly rise to his feet. He slid out into the aisle with the most trepidation as a quiet little mouse. One step forward was something he couldn't manage right now. His right foot hovered in the air as if it were over a grenade. He had to be delicate, he had to be cautious, and he had to not draw too much attention to himself. But overall, it didn't matter. She was going to see him anyway. No matter how loud his steps were. That was the point, he scolded himself.

Nonsense chatter invaded the logic in his mind. People talking about swimming pools, laughing about unfunny jokes, making plans about their stupid, meaningless little holidays. None of that even mattered, why did they bother to waste air by talking about it? He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Nothing would ever compare to this moment. Never had he felt so scared about something - and he'd been bungee jumping, so that was really saying something. All of the oxygen in the plane and completely evaporated and he struggled for breath. He couldn't cope. He couldn't do this. All of the hype he had to convince himself he could have just gone without a trace.

A flash. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. She ran by him, not even ran, it was like she teleported. One minute he was staring at her with all the awe he could muster in the world trying to psyche himself to up talk to her. The next she had gone. Gone, straight past him with nothing but a trace. He watched as the trail of a loose earphone, a loose shoelace, accompanied her on her great march down the opposite end of the plane. They had brushed against one another, not hands, rather bodies. For a split second he had forgotten that he needed to breathe to survive. All the oxygen had been drawn from his lungs like an endless vacuum. It brought him back to those times he had spent with her together. Close, intimate, holding one another. Heat, skin, teeth. The endless cycle of the game. The one both of them endured and loved with such great passion. They were intertwined for an eternity in those supple moments, connecting them on a level above spirituality. They were something greater than he had even imagined. She had taken the best parts of him, his innocence, and dissipated it into dust. He felt no obligation but to love her for all eternity. If only it were so easy for him to break the ties. To stop the feeling like he owed her. To end this unbreakable connection he seemed to be bound to, unable to move on. It ate away at him like a poor sickness. He wasn't really sure of himself without her.

Abigail Lux sat on the throne of the closed toilet seat. Humiliation was a certain stranger to her and she didn't seem to cope well under it. The pressure was something of which she could not bear. Of all that waiting for him to come to see her, she had tried to compose herself in order to give the best second first impression possible. She was going to create a new persona, just for him. One who was sweet and kind. One who was emotionally stable and listened to him. The perfect ex-girlfriend he had no choice but to slither back to. She wanted to create this portrait flawlessly and had the perfect plan sported out in her notorious brain. However, everything changed once the reality hit her. That this was not a second chance. That she had screwed up tremendously. That he would never want to take her back after all that had happened.

Taking a final breath of consolidation, she splashed some cool water on her burning face and gave herself a reassuring look in the mirror. Black mascara ran down her troubled face, lipstick she had applied rose especially for him had almost completely faded. Her hair was static and frizzy, she hadn't the time to straighten it this morning. For all re-introductions purposes, there was no worse looing than how she looked. Mess didn't even begin to cover it. She was beyond that.

With a nod to her reflection, she opened the safe of the door and emerged back into the world of Hell she had created and plunged herself into the flames. As she made her progress, she hoped that he had returned back to his seat but her thoughts went sour when she saw his seat was empty. Her glassy eyes searched the plane to no avail. This was impossible; how could he have disappeared? They were ten thousand miles above the earth, he couldn't have just--

All the darkest thoughts in her mind accumulated then burst once she laid eyes on her seat. There he was, reclining on her chair. Lust travelled through her body. It would carry his aroma now for the entire flight. A feeling of hunger overcame her. It was like a perfect dream.

"Do you want me to sit on your lap?" she asked. Her poor attempt at a joke fell flat and she felt the colour returning to her narrow cheeks.

"I think we should start at a handshake," he told her. Harry extended his hand and waited for her to shake it.

She chose not to. It was too formal, too impersonal. She had poured her heart and soul into him. She deserved better than that.

Harry let his hand fall to his distaste. "How are you? How have you been?"

"How have I been, Harry?" She let out a breathy exhale. "It's been six months, Harry. Six months without a word. How can you do that to a person and then just expect everything to be fine?"

He gulped, aware of her voice becoming louder. Aware of the volcano that was about to erupt. He had to diffuse this bomb before any colossal damage could be made. "OK. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me."

"Too damn right, that was wrong. Why did you do that to me? I thought I meant something to you."

"You do," he sighed. "You really do. I know that was stupid but you're--"

"I'm what, Harry? I'm what?" The words spat from her lips like venom. Poison carved her eyes.

He had to be careful with his next words. He wanted to say needy, pushy, a b***h, something. He couldn't speak his mind. He knew he couldn't. It was a flashback into the two years of his life he had spent to her. One bad word and there was more than Hell to pay. "You don't deserve me, OK? We don't deserve each other. We need to move on to better people." It was like he was breaking up with her all over again.

"Deserve? DESERVE?" she exclaimed, waking passengers around. "Are you kidding me right now with that pretentious bullcrap? If you think you've got some crumby washed up idea of what you think that I deserve in life, you've got another thing coming."

Desperation haunted him. He rose from the seat without a word, zoning out of the pushing words she threw at him. He couldn't cope with two weeks of this.