Crash

I saw the Earth beneath, radiant in the glow of the first rays of the day. Land, curved like an arched back, green, lush, indivisible, peaceful without boundaries or borders. Water, lakes and seas, reflecting the sky like mirrors, smooth and pristine.

The plane glided, as the motors silenced in the final descent. I sat back in my seat, my eyes focussing on the world outside that got bigger and bigger. Anticipation, excitement ran through my mind, sending shivers. I could see the shadow of the plane, drawing nearer, faster as the plane inched toward land.

But out of nowhere, two walls closed in on either side. This isn't right, I thought to myself. I realised then where I was... the train tunnel entering Schiphol Airport. How could the pilot mistaken railway tracks for the runway?! I wanted to call out, alert others of this terrible mistake. Too late...

View from the air... the plane descended slowly onto the tracks. With two nacelles at the tail attached to the fuselage, it could have been an MD90, or Fokker100. What was sure was that if the plane did not pull up, it would hit the overhead wires. I tensed as I watched the plane, rear wheels first, slam into the wires, causing sparks to fly and the crack of metal tearing to echo. The wings tore off, and slammed against the tunnel walls, as the fuselage sunk through the electrification wires like a piece of log and slid onto the railway tracks.

The plane, or what remained of it, rode the rails for some time. The screeching sounds, irritating and deafening, reverberated in the darkening tunnel. Sparks flew wildly as metal ground with metal. Then suddenly a shine of light from up ahead. An ICE train sped toward the plane. Impact, as the high speed rail crashed onto the nose, causing the engine and all the carriages that followed it to cascade onto the fuselage.

Back in the plane... I quickly unbuckled my seat. A roar rumbled through the walls of the cabin, as windows cracked and crumbled like shards of ice. Dust, flame, smoke, and screams of panic and horror filled the cabin. Down the aisle I could see the ceiling of the cabin collapse under the weight of the speeding train the plane had just collided head on with. People scrambled, some trampled under the feet of fleeing passengers. Amid the confusion and violence of explosions and flying papers, luggage and glass were rambling prayers, Hail Mary's, and cries for help.

I stepped onto the aisle, ready to sprint to the back of the plane. Then I realised I forgot my travel pouch, with all my important documents and my very important camera, so I reached for it. By then the running herd of fleeing passengers had run past my seat. I was trapped. All the while, the blinding headlights of the ICE engine had torn itself into the cabin and was advancing fast, mowing everything, everyone in its path down...

I woke, shaken, but somewhat relieved.

Thank goodness I am not flying KLM tomorrow.