Let me out!

I don't know what was worse, the emergency landing or the hanging around. It had been 3 hours since the crash and we were still being held in this rather austere, brightly lit ‘debrief’ lounge. We were being largely ignored except for first aid for the cut and the bruised. I say crash, it was more like a bumpy landing to be honest, not that I felt like that at the time; at the time I was doing what any of you would be doing; I was shitting myself and suddenly talking to a god I had spurned over 25 years earlier. First the lights went out, pitch black, not even the exit signs were working. Then the captain's voice, not over the tannoy but through a loudhailer. Magnetic interference, electrical fault, no power, no instruments, attempt a landing in Munich. They don't tell you your chances of survival, they just tell you we ‘will attempt to land’.... What does that mean? Were we going to die? There wasn't so much as panic just silence, broken only by the sound of quiet sobs and the welcome-chimes of mobile phones being switched on - people willing to break the rules so they could say goodbye to their loved ones, or phoning Sky News so their last minutes could be broadcast to the nation. Minutes passed, the light of the moon illuminating the eerily dark cabin. A plethora of whispered valedictory speeches filled the air. Why didn’t the plane carry parachutes? A woman's voice came on the loudhailer, calm, clear, two words BRACE! BRACE! We all knew what to do despite habitually ignoring the safety announcements - but with my belly the brace position was easier said than done. The lady next to me was crying. 'it's so unfair' she sobbed, 'I was going to go to see the pyramids next week.' I remembered thinking it was weird what people prioritise. I was wondering if this was it, wondering if I was going to die in this less than flattering pose, trying to put my head between my legs like a boy who had just reached puberty. I knew I was scared but it was a different type of fear than hearing a noise in the night. I was terrified but strangely calm. Just as I was making a soon to be forgotten pact with god, THUMP, the plane hit the ground, we seemed to be okay but it felt like we were going too fast, we weren't out of the woods yet, in fact if we didn't slow down we'd quite literally be in the woods and in flames. Then came the brakes, the whoosh of noise and air. We were thrown forward and then back as the plane skidded left and then right in one terrifying moment ... and then it was all over.

Heavy breathing filled the cabin along with groans and moans as people manoeuvred themselves back into the upright position, touching the sore bits - checking for blood.  Within seconds flashlights and torches illuminated the scene and we could see the plane being showered with a fountain of foam. Faces appeared at windows like weird masks and soon we were leaving the plane down inflatable chutes and led away like sheep to this debrief lounge. I felt sorry for my fellow passengers. They may not have died in the crash, but if someone didn't free us soon, then I was going to kill one of them.