Aerophobia

The flight attendant left the cockpit door open, what I saw did little to alleviate my fears. I see the pilot take another swig from his metal flask. He turns and--realizing the door is open--glares at me; hurriedly, he slams the tiny door to the cockpit.

I reach into pocket for another Xanax; I need to forget what I just saw, forget why I'm even on this flight. The funeral is tomorrow. Tomorrow I bury my best friend and lover, the only man who could make me smile. I haven't slept, ate, or smiled since I received the phone call. As my thoughts begin to wander, as my grief begins to well up, the plane lurches violently and nosedives towards the ground.

He had always told me there was no reason to be afraid of flying. As the plane makes it's rapid descent, a powerful peace envelops me.

"You'll always land at your destination, Lyndsey," he said.

He was right.

Blood Thinner

I re-read the text in hand, able to read but somehow unable to comprehend. I can't stop shaking, I bite my lip to keep it from quivering.

We think it's best if you don't come home.

Was I still their son? Did they still love me? Were they the same parents that raised me?

I have nowhere else to go, nowhere to stay. Just like that, I am no longer part of a family. I can't help who I'm attracted to, should I be punished for this moral shortcoming?

Perhaps they're right, maybe it's best I don't come home. What's obvious now is I never was.. 

Score

The cold wind whips around the corner of the tall building, but I cannot feel it. All I can feel is the gnawing pain of starvation; it's fierce pull draws me closer to the corner store. I've been in there dozens of times, I even know the clerk by name: Stavi.

Now just outside the store, a twinge of nervousness and guilt roil in my stomach; I don't know if I can go through with this. The hunger returns, fiercer and more desperate than ever. I swallow my fear, slip on my ski mask, and fumble for the revolver in my waistband.

Stavi tried to fight back, but my hunger was stronger. He didn't give me a choice; my hunger didn't give him a chance. As I run out of his store with twenty-five bucks, I hear the sound of sirens approaching quickly.  

Therapy

Every night she works the same corner. I can't help it: I'm a creature of habit and she is truly a thing of beauty. She is never much for conversation, but she listens well. I tell her about my loveless marriage, my failed parenting, even my soul-sucking; every story, every detail, she gives me that same sexy smirk and soft chuckle.  Her features cast silhouettes on the poorly lit concrete; I can't help but imagine those same soft curves casting shadows in my bedroom.

"I love you," I say.

"One hundred dollars, hon." 

Girl

They told me I wasn't her type. I was devastated, my heart dropped to my stomach; the only girl I ever felt this way about and I wasn't "her type."

I see her type in the halls, I suffer their jeers, they push me against the lockers and slap me on the back of my head. I see how her type treats her, how they drag her like a rag doll by her arm. I see the shame on her face, her eyes never stare at anything but the floor.

It's after prom and she and I are both sitting on the curb. Her dress is torn, her eye is black and blue, and her mascara is running. I place my coat over her shoulders, her crossed arms clutch it for warmth. A loud sports car with a glowing carriage pulls in front of us. He tells her to get in the fucking car.

"Sorry," she says as she brushes the coat off her shoulders and walks gingerly to the car.

Patriot

I couldn't have been a more proud parent. He would write me every chance he got, he would tell me not to worry.

"Things are pretty boring here, mom," he would write. "Can't wait to see you and dad real soon!"

The letters stopped coming. I asked them why but they wouldn't tell me. They could see I was worried, they would reassure me, tell that he's probably just unable to send a letter wherever he is. I began to tell myself the same thing.

They came by this morning with a flag and his tags.

Ally

Yesterday they came by with food. The rations went so fast, we could only get a few packages before the rest of the village poured out for the same reason. The soldiers came by today. They told us they trying to find bad guys, to find terrorists that want to hurt us. They tell us they want to help us, they tell us that's why they brought us food. I want to help them, but I don't know any terrorists.

We were playing outside when a noise like a loud whistle and then an explosion ripped through our village. The smoke looked like it was coming from my house. I follow the smoke, it was coming from my home. I could see my father partially buried beneath the rubble, I could hear my brothers and sisters crying for water, crying out in pain.

A man I've never met puts his hand on my shoulder. He tells me the soldiers did this, that they hated us. He tells me he can help me get back at them. He tells me we are allies.