Flying, Falling | Teen Ink

Flying, Falling

August 22, 2014
By Emma5181 GOLD, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Emma5181 GOLD, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
10 articles 1 photo 4 comments

 

 

            The week before my sixteenth birthday, my best friend Robbie invited me to his house, telling me that our “dare of the month” was prank phone calls.  After calling a few random people asking if they wanted to buy various oddities, Robbie pulled a business card from his pocket.  I rolled my eyes as he dialed the number.

            “Who could be so important that you took their business card to prank call them?” I asked.  All the other numbers came out of a page in his mom’s archaic phone book.  Robbie ignored my question.

            “Hello?  Is this ‘Sky’s the Limit Skydiving Company?’  Yes, I’d like to confirm my reservation for two on May first.  The name’s Robert MacIntire.  Yes.  Good.  Thank you, good bye.”

            “Are you insane?” I knocked the phone out of his hand.  “You just gave some random person your name!  Your real name!  They could trace the call, we’ll get in trouble!”

            “Chill, Addie, chill.  It wasn’t ‘some random person.’  It was Skylar, the guy who runs ‘Sky’s the Limit.’  I got us a reservation.”

            “Very funny, Rob.  The pranks are supposed to be on the people at the other end of the phone, not on me.”

            “It’s not a prank, Addie.  It’s your dream.  I’d never kid you about that.”

            “Yada, yada.  That’s such a cheesy line.  Besides, May first is my birthday.  You promised we’d do something special… ohhhhh.”  My eyes widened in understanding.  Robbie nodded.

            “Yes, Adeline.  This is your sixteenth birthday present.”  My face lit up.

            “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

 

z

 

            One week later, we were waiting on the tarmac, watching a small private plane take off.  A man in overalls and a name tag that read “John” approached us and shook Robbie’s hand. 

            “Hi, I’m Robbie MacIntire.”

            “I’m John Neal,” said the man.  “I believe I spoke to you on the phone.”

            “No, I think I talked to Skylar, the owner.”

            “Well, that’s me,” said John.

            “But Skylar-”

            “It’s all for the advertising, kid.  ‘Skylar, skydiving,’ it’s priceless!  You didn’t really think my name was Skylar, didja?” he chuckled.  “Is this the birthday girl?”  He turned to me.  I stepped forward, holding out my hand.

            “I’m Adeline.”

            “Happy eighteen, Adeline,” he said.  I was about to correct him, but Robbie tactfully slid his foot over mine and stomped down, hard.  I bit my tongue.

            “Eighteen, yup.”  I grinned.  “It’s a big year!”

            “Good thing you’re eighteen, we don’t take minors up without parents.”  He gave us a knowing smile.  Robbie may be able to pull off eighteen, but me, I’d be better off pretending to be twelve.  Skylar- I mean John- guided us to our plane, a small, rickety creature.  I trusted it with my entire heart and soul.  Anything, animal or machine, that flew had my entire faith and adoration.  After a brief tutorial we boarded the plane.  The moment I entered the plane, my idol, my dream, I felt trapped.  I wanted to fly on my own terms, with my own wings.  No matter how much I admired the plane and the birds, I wanted to be my own inspiration.

            My stomach lurched and I felt the same rush I got from leaping off the roof of my backyard shed.  I looked out the window and saw the hated ground retreating.  I had won the battle.  I was flying and the ground, for once, was falling.  Robbie gripped my hand with white knuckles. 

            “Uh, Addie?”

            “Yeah Rob?”

            “I fully support your flying fetish and all, but I’m not so great on taking off in a plane that looks a hundred years old.”

            “You’ll be fine,” I told him.  “I love this,” I breathed, my eyes widening with glee.  The plane accelerated and soon we were leveling out.  John- I mean Skylar- passed us the parachutes.  He droned on about how to work them and how expensive they were so we’d better not break or steal them.  As if we could steal them from several thousand feet off the ground.

            “So how much did this cost?” I whispered to Robbie.

            “Let’s just say I won’t be going to college anytime soon,” he smiled.  “Also, your parents may have pitched in a few bucks.”

            “We’re nearing our destination,” said Skylar- I mean John, I mean, oh never mind.  I’ll call him John/Skylar.  “Once we get there, I’ll open the door and we’ll all jump together, okay?  Like I said before, a jeep will meet us where we land and take us back to the runway.”  I nodded vigorously.  We went over how to activate the parachutes one more time, then John/Skylar opened the plane door.  I tripped over Robbie, rushing to get out.

            “I’m not so sure if I want to do this anymore,” Robbie muttered as the cold wind pulled at his hair.  I shook my head at him and leapt from the plane into the wild ocean of sky.  John/Skylar and Robbie yelled after me, but the wind carried their voices away from my ears, freeing me from the last thread of connection I had to the world.  I felt at once calm and exhilarated.  I was plummeting gracefully towards the grassy mountainside, and all was still but my body, rushing through the air.  My breath joined the song of the universe as it was pulled from me by the wind, a small price to pay form my freedom.  The mountain grew closer, ever so slowly.  The sky was my kingdom and I was free to fly by my own means.  Not even the strings of the parachute could bind me.  I had decided long ago not to activate the device on my back.  If I had wanted to be bound to the land, I would have activated it minutes ago.  I was steadfast in my decision to fly beyond the constraints of reality.  My body could belong to the earth but my soul would forever swim among an ocean of clouds. 

The dreaded ground was nearing faster now.  My vision sharpened and I could see individual blades of grass below me.  I gasped, suddenly aware that my soul would be free, but if I wanted my body to fly again, it had to remain connected to my soul, alive.  I clawed at the string that would open my parachute but it had gotten tangled.  I began to hyperventilate, stretching out my arms and raking them through the air.  I seemed to near the ground in bursts.  For a moment I would hover in the air, then I would drop suddenly.  Hover, drop, hover, drop, until there was no more hovering and everything was falling.  I was now close enough to the ground that I could have reached out and touched a blade of grass if I wanted to.  I felt the heat of radiating off the ground.  My breath was caught in my throat.  My heart was racing, as if trying to pump me back into the sky.  Or as if it was racing to the finish line of my life. 

Suddenly, I was hovering again.  I held my breath, bracing myself for the final impact.  But I continued to hover.  The last drop never came.  And slowly, almost immeasurably, I began to rise.  I felt the wind fluttering beneath my tense body.  I reached out but could no longer touch the grass.  All at once, the wind whipped and I rose upward on a gust of fresh, beautiful air.  I breathed in deep and long, savoring the air that had saved me.  The ground was farther now.  I was moving through the sky as if I had been born to do so, which was probably the case.  Just as a mother saves her child who is trapped in a burning building, the wind saved me, lifting me into its cloudy embrace.  I followed the currents of the wind, tracing paths through the clouds with my fingers.  In the distance, I could see the plane landing on the grassy hill where I had almost crashed.  The wind bore me higher and higher until I was nearing the top of the mountain.  I smiled and danced through the air.  I spun and dove, the mistress of my own wings and the keeper of my own key to freedom.  I had unlocked my cell and thrown that key into the abyss.  No one and nothing could shut me in again.  I touched down gently on the tip of the mountain and relished the feeling of solid the earth against my feet.  Now that I was free to leave the ground as I chose, my prison was becoming more like home. 



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.