Vaelmark

Going abroad was the best idea Mom could come up with after the divorce. Like she just wanted to get away from it all the memories, the fights, the house where everything had started... and fallen apart. Maybe she also hoped we’d stop thinking about how painfully quiet home had become.

“We need a fresh start,” she’d said, snapping the suitcase shut with a loud click. “Canada’s perfect for Christmas.”

It was early morning, still dark out when we got in the car. The Miami streets were quiet, and the front seat even quieter. Mom was driving. She looked completely drained, dark circles under her eyes, hair that was usually in perfect curls now shoved into a messy ponytail. Her pale knitted sweater hung off her like she hadn’t changed clothes in days. Her eyes were on the road, but her mind was clearly somewhere else.

Katty and I sat in the back, squished between suitcases, a half-eaten bag of candy, and three jackets we weren’t sure we’d need. She had her legs pulled up, blond hair in a lazy braid, eyes sparkling with irritation huge, blue, dramatic, just like her. Small, wiry, freckled across the nose, always ready to throw down over the tiniest thing.

I just stared out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. A tropical Christmas had always been normal for us. Now we were heading into snow, cold, and a bunch of relatives we barely remembered the names of. My reflection flickered in the glass long dark hair tucked behind one ear, cheeks pale in the glow of streetlights. I looked older than I felt.

“This is so unfair,” Katty muttered, arms crossed.

I sighed. “What now?”

“You always get the window seat. I’m just saying we flip a coin this time.”

“We already did. I won.”

“You cheated.”

Mom let out a long sigh. “Can you two please wait until we get through security to start fighting?”

It went quiet again, for about five seconds.

Then:

“And you snore,” Katty snapped.

“I do not!”

“Do too. You woke me up the other night. I thought it was an earthquake.”

Mom slapped the steering wheel. “New rule: no one talks until the bags are checked!”

Shockingly, once we reached the airport, everything actually went okay. Check-in, security, boarding. But the window seat drama wasn’t over.

I got there first, like always, and tossed my bag onto the seat before Katty could beat me to it.

“Tracy! Move! You always get the window. Let me have it for once!”

“I deserve the seat.”

She gave me a look like she wanted to strangle me. A few passengers glanced over. It was always like this no matter where we went, we somehow managed to turn it into a scene.

Katty dropped into the seat next to me, grumbling something under her breath. I ignored her and stared out the window, holding in a sigh. The engines roared. The plane started to move.

Mom threw one last “Act like teenagers, not five year olds!” over her shoulder before takeoff.

The flight started out okay. We got food, watched a movie I’ve already forgotten, and even Katty stayed quiet which was basically a miracle.

But halfway through, the shaking started.

At first, just a small bump. I barely noticed, figured it was just normal turbulence. But then the lights flickered. And suddenly, the flight attendants didn’t look so calm anymore.

“Mom, what’s happening?” Katty whispered, grabbing her arm.

My stomach twisted. It got worse. Way worse. The plane jerked hard, like something had slammed into it. Drink carts tipped, trays flew, someone screamed in the back.

“Ladies and gentlemen” the captain’s voice crackled through the speaker, then cut out. Static. “We’re experiencing severe turbulence. Please fasten your seatbelts. We’re climbing to a safer altitude.”

I turned to the window and saw it.

Mount Logan.

Huge. Covered in snow and ice. A wall of rock rising like it wanted to swallow the whole sky.

Then, the hit.

The plane lurched. The lights died. The engines screamed. We dropped.

I remember holding Katty’s hand so tight my fingers went numb. Mom yelled something, but I couldn’t hear her over the roar.

And then

Nothing.