"You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have"
- Bob Marley
Present Day: September 3rd 2014
Here's the funny thing about fear; it's an instantaneous time-bomb. One minute your heart-rate is orderly and you without-a-doubt believe everything is on auto-pilot. Zen; collected; unaware. But once it makes connection, your body becomes a frenzy like that. Everything turns upside down; your mood, your demeanor, everything. And when Flight #137 halts for an emergency landing because Katia herself had welcomed her body into the stratosphere, that's when Felix will know the true definition of fear.
Fear and disorientation. He had learned all their synonyms and could recall their origin meaning. He stoop up from his #28 E chair despite the forewarning. And he mourned it shortly. For the aeroplane danced to the right causing a Louis Vuitton bag (or atleast that's what Felix thought he saw on the print) to unanticipatedly collide with his right temple. Which he then collided, through the aisle and to the opposite seat. Only having his palms to push off of the padded head rest.
Then he heard the ringing. You know what that is. When you're placed somewhere excruciatingly soundless. Or when you just finished being front row in a firework show, or if you got pummeled too hard in the head, a stifled buzzing sound seeming to be inside an ear. That's what Felix was hearing at the moment. And if he thought that was agonizing, he had one thing coming for him. Because right then a woman no younger than he pelted into Felix, introducing his head to a plane window. It splintered into little spider-web cracks but did not shatter. The result was a gash to the back of the head .
"Oh shit...Sorry, dude. Didn't see you there with the whole 'end-of-the-world-plane-crashing' extravaganza." She seemed awfully sane being the situation. She also had this tomboy-ish look to her. Not that it mattered to Felix. He gawked at her some more and realized that she was American. Which wasn't that rare, he supposed.
"Hey...Stop looking at me like that. I like girls, ok?" She spoke. The Swede had no problem with that, of course. He himself was bisexual.
Before another thought crept into his mind, he felt a tepid liquid ooze down the back of his neck. The moment he started feeling woozy he knew it was blood. The corners of his vision felt like a laser light show and swirls of shaded black fell over his eyes. The same padded head rest he once steadied himself on served again as a beacon of assurance as he laid upon it with all his weight. Only before his body failed him and he deteriorated to the ground.
"Hey, hey, no...are you okay?"
Sprites were unfastened. Malcom in the Middle was replaced by the time-honored movie Click with Adam Sandler. But, those cans were left ajar. And the movie's finale ended up unwatched. Considering Hurricane Katia accelerated into the the entire Florida state. Dividing the whole roof from the break room in one prompt movement. Almost like peeling the skin of a mandarin.
They say when your in a dire moment. You witness your whole life-line from the backs of your eyes. As well as your loved ones. Cry was there to prove that accurate. Allie and Nathan, his siblings roamed across his irises; his gratifying mother. Shannon; his enchanting niece. Even his abusive father.
He came across memories he didn't even know he remembered until this day. Riding a bike for the very first time. Prancing around the living room with Allie with the Party Music channel on and singing into remotes like they were microphones. Observing his baby brother in the hospital he was born from.
He witnessed from the now gaping door a very perturbed Riley Amador being guided by official seeming men and their elaborate suit being sorely buffeted by displeased wind. Cry swore the rainfall came in sheets as if they were newly formed cookie dough ready to be put in the oven. The rain slowly but surely, then all at once defied gravity and the laws of physics and fell horizontally. Florida being Florida and the Hurricane State, he had attended one too many monsoons. His elementary school performed storm drills almost twice every week. About half of those were real.
There was also somebody underneath Riley's tan trench coat. As if the little person was protected by a mother bird's wing. Her wild, side swept bangs were plastered to her forehead due to the rain. Her locks were a ginger color aswell as her eyes. She came off as mighty in a mental and emotional kind of way.
The group entered the break room to join us and to get some shelter.
"Guys, this is Beth."
A/N: Ok I'm honestly trying not to make this like The Walking Dead where they're all split up and what not but maybe I'm paranoid and nobody at all thinks that. I don't know. But I kind of want Felix and Cry to be like Glenn and Maggie from TWD in season 4 where they are both looking for eachother and Maggie writes on things to tell Glenn (if he' s alive) to go to Terminus. I thought that was adorable. So, yeah that's how it's gonna go down. :)