Chapter 9

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Tristful;

Deeply yet romantically melancholy.

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"Is that it? Are you sure this is safe?" Charise tugged on the two straps pulling her rather gently to the seat.

Jason chuckled and leaned over her shoulder to tighten the belt. "I've had my science since I was 16, so yeah, it's pretty secure."

Charise could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with every breath. She found her eyes creeping up the button of his blood-red shirt and up to his warm, green eyes that were focused on the buckle. Her face transformed into a field of roses - red and apprehensive.

Amid her studies, Jason's eyes met hers and she instantly looked down at her hands. She didn't know why, but whenever their gaze met she felt distressed. This is Jason Sawyer, he's a good man, this isn't - she suddenly felt guilty. He didn't do anything wrong, yet being this close to him, feeling the air that he breathed out flatten her hair made her feel anxious and unsettled. Trapped. Once the airplane lifts off the ground, there would be no going back. What if we crash-

"Are you okay?" he sat down in his seat and she watched him pull the belt strap over his shoulder.

Charise nodded automatically, like a programmed doll who just blinks and makes out simple and meaningless phrases to impress their master - "I love you! Would you fancy some tea?"

"Final call," he said. "There's not going back after we're off the ground."

Obviously, Charise thought with a hint of jittery annoyance. She could feel the sweat from her palms seep through her skirt. She slid her hands to her knees, feeling the two wet spots on her bare skin. Her fingers curled and she dug her nails into her (now) even paler skin. The mellow, perpetual pain was oddly comforting, it helped numb her harrowing thoughts.

"Yes," she slowly forced the words from her lips, "I'm ready to take-off." her voice was firm, yet it didn't take a detective to hear the subtle uncertainty.

She felt Jason's warm, soothing hand cup over hers. She looked down at their linking hands. He gently rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. Letting go of her grip, she relaxed her hand and let him slide his fingers through the openings of hers.

It felt okay.

This could actually be okay.

She released a trembling breath and nodded, really nodded this time. "I'm ready."

Jason carefully rested her hand on the leather seat and clutched the tiller.

Like a magician (in Charise's eyes), he brought the plane to life. It started with a faint vibration, and then a soft monotone 

Charise gripped to the sides of her seat and felt as the plane began to steadily move forward along the paved road. She didn't even realize the road was paved, it was odd how this nostalgic childhood place had suddenly changed into takeoff grouds.

The plane suddenly picked up speed, she felt her body press into the leather seat.

She shut her eyes.

As though a heavyweight was lifted, she felt as the plane became airborne.

She slowly opened her eyes and glanced out the window, watching as the trees far off in the distance became even smaller, now resembling the bushes that grew in her front yard. The houses had shrunk to Monopoly homes and the roads turned into messy lines.

Charise chuckled in relief, "Wow, I, holy-" she didn't know what to say, flying erased her memory of the English language.

"Shit?" he suggested, smiling, looking ahead.

"Yeah. Yeah, holy shit!" she exclaimed in elation. She had never felt this way before, a baby bird who just learned how to fly. A certain high, that could never be re-lived but will never be forgotten. A type of feeling that she could only try to describe.

"You've never been in a plane before?" he sounded a bit surprised.

Charise shook her head, eyes still glued to the window, observing the doll-sized world, "No, no I haven't."

~*~

Most of the ride was spent in silence. Charise intently watched as the scenery changed, frame by frame, like in a movie. They didn't fly too high, keeping at a relatively low level, allowing her to look at all the buildings she was once so fond of as a kid; the abandoned mill house that would cost more to repair than to just build a new one, the lake where they'd all going swimming at before they saw a snapping turtle and got scared, the 24 hr convenience store that always had air-conditioning, but only had to lamp posts for the light that stood at the entrance like two welcoming gates into a castle. There was even Julie's house (Charise's fried, well, maybe?) house that always looked like it was about to collapse. Their other didn't like them going there for that reason. Charise always wondered what happened to Julie after she left, she was such a rebel. "The stupid kind of girls," as her mother would say. Charise could imagine her life turning out in two ways; either somewhere in a big city (New York, perhaps?) doing something big, changing the world, or in the back of a hippie van pushing heroin into her veins and hooking up with anyone who was willing to lend her a ride.

As her mind wandered, her eyelids began to feel heavy. The world started to fade into a daze in which even the most irrational thoughts somehow made perfect sense. She only felt as Jason (about whom she had completely forgotten) covered her with a blanket, as best as he could with one hand on the wheel. The shooting warmth from the blanket pushed her into a long, unpleasant dream.

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