again as I realize that my own hair has been cut on the bottom half of my head too. Gingerly, I run my fingers through the fine hairs just above my neck that appear to be around an inch long. That’s weird… I mean, why would someone cut my hair to be an inch long?
“What does it look like?” The black woman to my left is rapping on the glass between us with her knuckle, gesturing for me to look at her. Sitting forward as much as I can, I’m thankful for the distraction even though the ground shifts between my legs as we continue to spin slowly. “I’m Monica, by the way,” she says as she turns to her left and lifts the long, springy lengths of her hair with her back to me.
I press more against the restraints holding me in place as I squint to get a better look. It almost looks like I can see something red on her scalp there. “Do you have a scar on your head?”
Where she’s pulled up the tight curls that are easily six inches long, I can see a red raised welt running along the top of the shorter hair. “What?”
Her head swivels to watch me as I lean forward, separating my hair in the back and running my fingers down to where the shorter hair starts. I trace along what I’m sure I was just seeing on her as another scream echoes through the speakers.
“Shut… The. Hell. Up.”
I don’t know who’s getting aggravated, but it’s clear someone’s not impressed with all the screeching. There’s a part of me that wants to scream right along with them. If I thought it’d help anything, I’d definitely be in on that.
Lightly, I trace the fingers on both of my hands from the center of my head to the sides. The scar stops about an inch away from the back of my ears. There’s no way in hell I would’ve gotten that and not noticed!
I’m not sure what’s going on, but just as the calmest voice, I believe it was Alina, begins to talk through what we all already know, I feel a strange pop in my ears before my stomach drops to the floor.
Oh! Did I think the floor?
No, not the floor. The ground!
My glass pod has catapulted off and away from the rest of the women. Just like the first woman and her pod a few minutes ago, it has taken me from the rest of the group. Fuck, fuck, fuck…
My automatic reaction is to close my eyes. But that’s stupid! Cracking my lids, I can see the ground below me getting closer and closer as I travel in a wide rounded arc to the left. I guess because we were rotating counterclockwise, my now solo craft is also heading that way. I’m not sure how much good it’s doing for me to watch my impending crash, but I continue to take in my surroundings.
The overwhelming tone is purple… yes, most of the surrounding foliage appears to be purple, rising out of rolling hills as far as I can see. I don’t see anything familiar. Where am I?
This has to be Earth, right?
Getting my breathing under control, I realize that I’m not dropping toward the ground at the speed you’d expect in a free fall. For whatever reason, I’m definitely drifting and heading toward a specific spot. Just as the ground looms frightfully closer, I panic, wondering if there’s something I need to do to land this thing.
I don’t know what I was thinking! I should’ve been figuring this out from the first time that other woman’s section broke off. But scanning around the small space that gives me an unobstructed view of the ground rushing toward me, there definitely isn’t a brake… or anything that looks like a control.
I throw myself back in the seat and grip the armrests, clutching them like my life depends on it. It may. Closing my eyes, I brace for impact, knowing that no matter what, this will not feel good.
The seconds tick by as I wait… and wait… before finally opening my eyes and realizing that the strange craft I’m strapped into is gliding over the ground approximately ten to twenty feet above it. Maybe higher? It’s really hard to say from this angle, and the lighting isn’t great.
My speed is still substantial, and I’d guess I’m easily going fifty miles per hour as the strange contraption shoots straight into what must be a