Flight Scene Monologue

My sister Whitney and I were on our flight home from Kenya. We had about two hours left in flight when the flight attendant said that we were experiencing some bad turbulence, but not to panic. Whitney was a few years younger than me and didn’t understand exactly what was happening and she immediately freaked out. I told her not to worry about it and we continued to finish our episode of Scream Queens. A couple of minutes later the whole plane started shaking and you could see the fear and panic on everyone’s face. You could tell we were all thinking the same thing “What if this plane crashes?” As if reading our minds the flight attendant came on the intercom and said “Everyone please take the proper safety precautions and prepare for an emergency landing.”
Chaos erupted everywhere as people frantically grabbed their oxygen mask.

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Our daughters Whitney and Brooke were coming home from their mission trip in Kenya today.
They were there to help build houses, play with the children, and feed the hungry. They had been gone for three weeks, so we were very excited to have them back home. We waited for a “We just landed” text for hours before the news came on. It flashed up, ‘PLANE CRASH’. All that came into my mind was them. Then the flight number, 7802. It was. It was their plane. The news reporter stated, “So far we know of three deaths, including one women. There are thirty-five injured and about nineteen missing.” Frantic, my wife and I tried calling their cell phones, but they both went straight to voicemail. I told my wife not to worry and that I was sure they were just fine, even though I wasn’t too sure of that
myself.
We ran to the car and drove to the site of the crash about two-hours out of Boston. Our hazards were blinking, and we were going probably 30 miles over the speed limit. To this day I’m still surprised we didn’t get pulled over. I turned to where the crash was, but we could barely get there. The officers and firemen tried to stop us from even getting remotely close. My wife told them our daughters and their mission group were on that plane, and we ran past them.
She burst into tears when she saw the plane. The number of people trying to help was countless. The plane was splintered into pieces, and I could feel the heat from the flames. Thousands of pieces were scattered for hundreds of feet. Chaos erupted everywhere, as they pulled bodies out of the rubble. “If this is as bad as it gets,” whispered a worker, “we’ll be okay.” Would it be okay? If either of my daughters died, would it be okay?