Ativan & Airplanes.

The clouds floated in the sky below her. She peered out the small rectangular window to her right. She could see cul-de-sacs and highways and baseball diamonds. She wasn’t thinking of the beautiful land stretched out below her, though.1

She was thinking of her destination. He mother had sent her away. She didn’t want to go, at least not for her mother’s reasons. She didn’t want to get better. She didn’t deserve to get better.2

The flight attendants came by a couple times, but she never got anything. The man beside her got apple juice and sipped it desperately.3

He back ached, but when she tried to recline her seat, the man behind her dug his knees into the back of it, pushing it back upright. 4

She wished she had a friend to talk to. But while trying to think of someone she wanted with her, she realized that none of her friends would have made her feel better. She felt like she had no real friends. Oh, she had friends… But none really knew her. Truthfully, it was her own fault for not trusting people, for not letting people in. Heartbreak will do that to you.5

The in-flight entertainment was a newly released animated kids’ movie; she wasn’t interested. Her earphones were plugged not into the movie, but into her iPod. It was louder than it should have been, she didn’t really care. Music was one thing she enjoyed even through her darkest moments.6

The words “FASTEN SEAT BELT WHILE SEATED” were stitched in the back of the headrest of the seat ahead of her. Hers wasn’t fastened.7

He mom had gotten her a prescription for 20 Ativan to help her sleep. Sometimes she would lie awake all night… Thinking of all that’s happened. Thinking of all that would never happen. Thinking of all the things she wished she could change, and thinking about show she never could change them.8

With 2 and a half hours left in the flight, and nothing to do, she took a couple of her sleeping pills. She wasn’t really tired…9

Forty minutes passed, and she still didn’t feel drowsy.10

The looming sadness that plagued her daily suddenly seemed to …clear. A sort of soberness came over her. She turned off her iPod, and leaned back in her seat, thinking. Still thinking of all that’s happened. Still thinking of all that would never happen. Still thinking of all the things she wished she could change, and still thinking about show she never could change them…but with a new clarity.11

She found a pen and her notebook, and tore out a clean page. She scrawled a short sentence, then ascended from her seat, stumbling into the aisle.12

The plane rumbled with turbulence as she slowly made her way to the plane’s lavatory. 13

Many people were reading or sleeping. There were twin boys a couple rows back from where she had being sitting. They took their attentions off the in-flight entertainment to watch her pass. Their identical wide eyes, filled with simple curiosity, pierced her. They seemed full of suspicion. Knowing?14

The left bathroom was OCCUPIED, so she entered the right. As she closed the door, the plane experienced a powerful jolt of turbulence. She lost her balance, flung her arm out and grasped the counter for support. 15

As she did, a small orange bottle fell from her hand. It was opaque plastic with a white lid and label. Eighteen smooth, round pills rattled inside. She snatched up the bottle and sat on the closed toilet lid. 16

The turbulence was getting worse, and she could hear a small child begin to cry. The captain spoke over the intercom. Perhaps it was the lavatory walls that prevented her from making out his words, or her state of mind. But as she popped off the bottle’s white lid and peered down at her Ativan, all she heard were murmurings. 17

Her head began to ache. She shivered violently, and started to sweat. Her mind was racing, but she felt paralyzed. Despite the pain and fear that consumed her, she felt surprisingly at peace. If she had shed any tears, they were not tears of sorrow. More so, they were a goodbye to all her sorrow. 18

You would think the flight attendants would check that every passenger was properly seated with their seatbelt fastened for landing, but somehow they overlooked her and the OCCUPIED lavatory.
Everyone had deplaned before they noticed her suitcase still beneath her seat and a small black notebook resting on it. One page, torn out, had been folded in half and slipped back between the other pages. On it, in small, loopy writing it read…19

This is me, better.20


They had to use a key to enter the plane’s right bathroom. She wasn’t yet cold, but she was gone.21

In an empty baggage claim terminal, an empty grey suitcase rode around the conveyor belt. Again, again…again.