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Miraculous Accident

Rebecca Treviño and Mariana Elosúa

The timer has been buzzing for the past hour. Someone please shut it up. Why did I put that alarm? I am still thinking about that Michael Jackson dream I was having. Going to his concert. Meeting him. Singing with him. And ultimately becoming famous. I slowly open my eyes and think all of a sudden, drat, I am going to miss my flight.  Shirt, shirt, shirt. I repeated to myself. Keys, phone, suitcase, handbag, pillow, blanket, earphones. Don’t mind the small stuff Joe, I said to myself, but I needed my stuffed bear to keep me company. UGH! I hate flying alone.

I ran to my car, and turned on the engine. DRAT! I didn’t put gasoline. I call a taxi instead. They said they were going to be here in about 10 minutes. 10 minutes have passed and they are still not here. 11 minutes.... he’s here, late. I hop in the car and tell the driver to drive quickly. “I’m in a hurry” I tell him, “but please don’t kill me because I’ve got somewhere to be. It’s my sister’s wedding tonight.” “What terminal?” said the man. “American Airlines flight 11”.

In the last 15 minutes we have stopped in a total of 7 lights. “How much ‘till the freeway” I ask the man. “Mmm, I’d give it 10 more minutes to get to the freeway if the traffic stays the same. And about 20 minutes of freeway till we get to the airport”. “30 minutes! God damn it! My plane leaves in 30 minutes! Hit the pedal”. “Sir, if you want to stay in my cab I’m going to have to task you to stay calm. We could get in an accident with all these emotions.” Stupid guy, stupid car, stupid traffic, I kept telling myself.

I kept counting the minutes. We were in minute 23.  Oh goodness gracious. I see the airport now. We are here 7 minutes early, that means I can be there on time. I throw a 50 dollar bill and tell the guy to keep the change. I grab my things and start sprinting towards the reception desk. “JOE HILLSMITH” I tell them as I cut the line. Sweat is dripping off my jawline, while my tears are rolling down my cheeks. “My flight is flight 11. It’s my sister’s wedding. I need to get there on time”. “Sir, you need to calm down. The plane is already boarding. I don’t think you’ll get there on time”. “Just give me my ticket. I’m sure I’ll be fine”. It took them exactly 4 minutes and 38 seconds to give me my freaking boarding pass. I kept running towards my gate. Literally 7 minutes Joe, why can’t you be faster than that. This all took place while I nearly died because of my acute asthma syndrome that I’ve had since I was a child. No one was there at the gate, and I a watched my plane take reverse ready to take off.

Darn Joe. Why do you always have this luck. You missed your plane. I looked at my stuff and saw that something was missing. Oh great! You forgot Teddy too. Why does God hate me? I hit the floor and curled up. I was sobbing. “I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself”. I woke up all of a sudden at night. In a room with paramedics. “You had a panic attack” said the doctor, “which left you unconscious”. “God hates me. My sister’s wedding was today and I missed it,” I told the paramedic. The paramedic started to cry loudly. I didn’t understand. Was he compassionate of me? “You don’t have to cry. I was the one who missed the wedding, not you,” I told him. “Joe. You are here alive because of a miracle. The plane you were going to get on crashed into one of the twin towers. Instead of hating yourself and God. Thank him instead.”

I had no words. Breath by breath I noticed that I was alive because I woke up late because of an accident.