He thought about it, chewing his answer over as his jaw sawed back and forth
“I don’t like not being in control of things.”
“Is that a fear though?”
“I fear… not being in control.”
“Of?” I pressed.
“Those around me,” he said carefully, not as sly as he thought as his undertone wreaked of deceit.
“Is that why you did this to me? To control me?”
Silence mulled over his response. Instead of answering, he dodged. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
My head swam with that dizzying kind of slumber, the strength in my body seeping out per second as I sank back further into Reyes' chest. Over the air came a voice on a speaker, the sound cracking as he told the plane that there were clear skies in Dallas and our landing should be smooth.
“You hear that? Smooth landing. Clear skies.”
But would it be? It was clear skies for Jonathan too before the engine malfunctioned—before clear skies didn’t matter because technology failed before Mother Nature could. I’d happily die a million different ways, but not like this. Not to where I could relive the horror my brother experienced in his last few seconds or minutes of life. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t know that.
I didn’t know I was crying again until knuckles brushed away the wetness on my cheeks, sorrow lingering in his touch. My head swayed against his shoulder as the plane rocked, and I willed the creeping slumber in faster.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Please just make it stop.
“I hate you for this,” I wept softly, a broken whisper.
No longer could I keep my eyes open, but I still felt his chest catch when breath stuck inside his lungs, releasing a second later in a lament of sadness. “Me too.”
Sleep sunk me under its heavy blanket soon after.
I hoped I never woke back up.