flightless bird || self para
Aiden had caused this. Men had suddenly stood up on the plane, threatening lives; wanting what they believed belonged to them. But Aiden didn’t have it and he hid, just like a child in the supermarket who was running from their parents. He put everybody else at risk, but he cared so little. There was only one person on such flight that he cared for and he believe himself strong enough to save her. Aiden did nothing else, but face the window, acting as if he was nothing but a shadow fading into the shade; almost unable to be seen. He’d even stuck his earphones in as the events kicked off, surely knowing what was to come. Though even the thick, but deep worries in even his careless state could not escape, he couldn’t predict the real horror the near future would bring. They knew not what he looked like, the men. He’d been in a world of stupidity after Serafina had left him, and now all of her friends, mixed with the other innocents aboard were about to pay the price. Aiden’s name was called out by the men, in all kinds of tones. His eyes flashed their way and around himself, finally alert, but he didn’t own up, only imitated those around him. Nobody else said anything either, presumably too scared too. He didn’t blame them. He was ready for a fight, but not in front of so very many people and certainly not whilst in the air. For some, it was sure to be a terror as overwhelming as they’d ever imagined, but it was barely even a surprise for Aiden.
It had gone too far. The shouting, the threatening, the fear. Grown men sobbed, children hid and his apparent friends showed eyes ignited with nothing but fear. Finn had caused some of these people enough damage; his mind spinning, his hands quivering. He was blind with fear, but who ever said that somebody so fearful couldn’t also be equally as brave? “Stop it,” he’d shouted out at the wicked men, feeling a sudden turn of heads with eyes pointing his way. A few sighs splashed around; people trying to yank hold of his arm and stop him from getting involved. There was a look of pure loathing that showered over the men’s faces as they looked out at any and every passenger. Mouths widened, some passengers shouting Finn, telling him to stop. But when would he ever listen, when would he ever be the one to sit back and try to stay safe at the expense of others. His misfortune, his illnesses, it was all caused by events like this. But did that stop him? No. Finn stood up boldly, pushing past the other passengers to the front where the men were stood. Only one of them seemed willing to speak, though even that one abusive voice was enough. There was a mockery in the older man’s smile, no sign of any form of seriousness as he stared sharply back at Finn. How wrong Finn was to presume everybody had at least an ounce of compassion, because these men certainly did not, but vulnerability was sitting back being scared and Finn had been vulnerable enough over these past months. “If ya try an’ kill us, ya only gonna kill ya’self too. Is that worth it? I-I don’t reckon it is.” It was history. It would be known forever how Finn Nolan struggled with words, and this situation was no different. However, now was his time to try and be strong; his time to pay those people back for putting up with his lack of memories, the tears he’d dragged down their faces. He’d looked back at them just for a short moment with sadness overcoming his features; regret and disgust, in himself. He needed to prove how much they really did mean to him, even if he currently had no clue as to who they were. If they could shed so many tears over him then they were surely worth it.
But his words and his shouts did nothing but create further anger. He’d peered over once again to the quivering people, trying to pick out familiar faces but he hadn’t spotted what was creeping closer to him, he’d been too heedless. It had started as an item only held tightly behind the man’s back; an item nobody thought to predict, nobody thought to notice. The situation was frightful, but there was a midst of thought that said this kind of thing only happened in movies; that these men were nothing but people with bad attitudes. The wilful man’s hand slowly dragged out the item from behind him, Finn still hadn’t noticed, he’d only heard the shrieks and petrified cries echoing from the others, the expressions mirrored in his eyes. That was when all confidence fled from those widening eyes. Frantically they had turned and dropped to view the gun; the man pulling it quickly up to point it in Finn’s direction. The bullet was out in a flash, smashing into Finn’s lungs.
The immediate pain had pushed him to the floor, loud screams fleeing out of his mouth before he’d had a chance to get out of the way, or even to react. Splattering through his ears came the weeping sounds of those around him; more echoed than before; they sounded less real and more fictional. Angry shouts forced the cries to stop, but every so often he’d hear one escape, only making the shouts from the angered men more explicit. His lungs had filled with blood within seconds. He’d never considered there to be a way to drown without water, nor had he ever considered it to be his death. Every puff of breath became more difficult, his eyes staring upwards, dead ahead with dripping tears beginning to cover his whitening face. The moonlight dripped through the window, glittering over his motionless face, making it look even paler than it already appeared.
Finn heard the sounds of people moving closer, a few a them, very suddenly. But his pale, colourless eyes had closed and darkness had begun to spread. He could feel the cries and sadness around him as even the sounds became muffled. He had no special last words, after all, those who surrounded him were nothing but strangers to the boy. There was no time to think about the pain thudding through his body, no time to yell for help. You’d expect for at least a tiny miracle, of memories flooding back into his mind during his last minutes, but there was no such event. It only grew emptier by the second, he was not lucky enough for final memories to flash before him, nor to feel loved in his final moments. His heart and mind were as shattered as his lungs. It had been nothing short of a few minutes, but to him it had been days. With such agonising, deathly pain, he believed it had been days. Moments passed very slowly, in slow motion almost.
Suddenly, and he didn’t know how, he was moving, falling, crashing. The plane began to fall, but he didn’t know that part. The last of his memories was this. It was only seconds and this time, only felt like seconds. There was no certain time to declare him deceased, but it was some time whilst the plane fell through the air, though he felt like he was flying; flying away, and perhaps he was. A hero in life and an angel in death.
{tagging so you all know what happened with the plane @livs-muses @vita-and-co @elliesxmuses @bennielector}
