I felt empty. How could I still be in the air? Why was there so much silence? What was that noise? I felt confused. How did I get myself inside this machine? Who forced me to do this? How was I the only one who couldn't control my despair? I felt ashamed; tears were running down my cheeks. I could feel even my soul shaking. What is wrong with me? I have never felt like this before. I could feel death whispering in my ear now.

Earlier that day, I was in the bus towards the airport, thinking about my trip in Peru. It was a March spring day. The day was clear; perfect for my departure. Inside the airport, there was not much difference between people. Long tired faces, eyes full of knowledge and beauty, waiting to return to reality. Sneakers and khaki pants were the uniform in the airport; tourism had no time for glamour. When we started boarding, I was confident about getting inside the airplane; there was no other way to get home. I found my seat, an economic class seat beside the airplane’s wing. It was not the best seat, but it was certainly not the worst. As usual, flight attendants assure me they will help me in any way. I could see their fake smile that lasted all day; it looked clumsy and in a way, painful. No one is happy all day. Their smile was not skeptical enough though; they assured me I was “protected”, they fooled me. The plane started to move towards the runway for our destination to Quito. It began, like any other plane, to move towards the sky. It went so fast, my ears started to hurt. The plane pushed itself off the runway and started to kiss the sky. Then, it happened.

Why did it happen? I never had the courage to ask. Was it a problem with the machine? Was it a human mistake? The plane took off, then suddenly began moving backwards, as if the runway was pulling it, like if it did not want to let go. Sounds of came through the engine of the plane. They say your whole life passes through your eyes when you believe you are going to meet death. Well, all I saw was water coming out my eyes. All I could hear were screams, and in between those screams, there where mine. Never had I felt that way in my life.

The moment did not last for more than 10 seconds. Well, I felt those were 10 years of my life. Despair entered my body and was there to stay. People who were not afraid of death, started laughing at the reaction of the others. I was grasping the armrests so hard that I was pretty sure I left a mark on them. The plane recovered from this fall, the sky pulled it back again on its normal track. For the others, this was just a scare. For me, it was an experience that turned my life into a nightmare; it was the experience that triggered by phobia.

The phobia was hard to overcome. Pills, psychologists and yoga breathing were necessary for about a year and a half. I got over it eventually. I realized that life was more than just living behind a crude fear that could have narrowed my life experiences completely. In a way, I’m grateful for the phobia. The experience gave me confidence of how strong I can turn out to be. Life is about overcoming fears. If I only saw this experience a cause for nights full of nightmares, I would not have moved on. If I could overcome a fear, why not anything else?