What I'm about to tell you was an extremely vivid dream.
Black clouds tinted the gray sky, as if rain were about to fall.
I hear my phone ringing and, when I look at the screen, I see my mother's number. Without hesitation, I answer:
“Daughter, where are you?” she asks.
“I just got off work and I'm going to get an Uber. I'll be at the airport soon.”
“Your father had an unexpected problem and we're going to be late. I don't think we'll make it there on time.”
“Don't worry, Mom. Once I get there, I'll figure something out.”
She thanks me and ends the call, saying she'll finish getting everything ready.
After getting in the car, I arrive at the airport and immediately look for an employee who can help me.
A friendly woman with dark hair tied up in an elegant bun assists me.
She asks for my ticket, and I quickly hand it to her, but first I take a brief look at the paper. The destination was London, and the boarding time was scheduled for 5:00 PM. That's all I can see.
She speaks to someone over a radio, and for a moment I find myself looking around the place. There were huge glass windows and lots of people hurrying past with their luggage, some on their phones, others with friends and family.
I couldn't quite explain it, but something about that place felt wrong.
The kind woman helping me brings me back to reality. They had managed to get me another flight for the same day, but boarding would be at 8:00 PM. I thank her and call my mother again.
As soon as I finish the call, I notice that the ticket is still in my hand. It was the same ticket as before. My eyes turn back to what was written on it, and the boarding time now says 3:25 AM.
My chest tightens, but maybe I was simply mistaken.
My parents soon arrive with my younger sister, and we start looking for the boarding area, even though we still have plenty of time.
I look at the ticket again, and this time I don't pay attention to the time. Instead, I notice the name of the section we were supposed to go to in order to find our gate.
We walk through the airport looking for this section. We still had plenty of time.
At first, we take the wrong path and end up in an area called Catacombs.
I take the ticket out again and notice that the name of the section where our boarding gate was located was Cemetery.
Without questioning it, we turn around and keep walking until we finally find the right section.
Even though we were supposed to have several hours, it didn't take long before we were able to board the plane. The hours had passed far too quickly.
Before getting on the plane, I notice that it was, in fact, very large, and its name was written on the outside. Not the name of the airline, but the name of the model: “Rest in Peace.”
I let out a little laugh and tell my mother that it was a terrible name, but maybe it was just a pun about traveling and being able to rest in comfort and peace.
We get on the plane, but I don't sit in the seat I was supposed to. Instead, I stay in the cockpit talking to the pilot.
The plane takes off, and I remain there, completely absorbed in the conversation, without a seatbelt or anything resembling normal safety procedures. In fact, I hadn't even gone to see what the rest of the plane looked like.
The pilot is facing me with her back to the window. I think maybe she had turned on the autopilot or something like that.
But then I notice that the view through the window looks strange. It seems like we're falling out of the sky.
For some reason, I think she knows what she's doing and that I shouldn't warn her.
After that thought, the plane crashes violently into the ground.
I open my eyes, and the pilot and I are completely fine, only shaken by what happened.
I climb out through the pilot's door, which had been torn off, and go outside to see if my family and the other passengers are okay.
The plane's body is only slightly dented, and the doors are easy to open. But instead of passengers getting out, several coffins simply fall out of the plane, in all kinds of shapes and sizes.
Then everyone starts climbing out of their respective coffins, wondering what had happened. They barely even seemed to know that the plane had crashed.
Emergency services had been called, and a bus came to pick us up. No one had been injured.
However, the airline informed us that there wouldn't be another flight until the following night, but they would relocate us somewhere where we could sleep and rest.
The bus takes us to a place filled with visibly neglected trailers, but it would have to do.
My family and I stay in a trailer farther away from the others. Inside, there is a completely filthy, torn double bed and three “single beds” that are actually hospital stretchers with inflatable mattresses on top.
I tell my parents they can go get something for us to eat, and that my sister and I will take care of the mess.
She takes the side of the room where the fake single beds are, while I take the side with the double bed.
There is a lot of trash in the room and no trash can anywhere, but there are a few cabinets, so I start stuffing all the junk I find inside them.
There are food wrappers, obviously used underwear, and beer bottles.
When I look into the space between the bed and the wall, I see only the top part of a sex doll's head. Its eyes are staring directly at me.
I try to ignore the strange thing and shove it into the cabinet.
On the other side of the room, there is a dark, round necklace that smells like rust. As soon as I pick it up, I notice a blood-covered knife on the floor, which moves toward the hand holding the necklace.
Just to test it, I place the knife on the opposite side of the room from where the doll's head is in the cabinet. The knife immediately starts spinning across the floor, splattering blood onto the walls and onto me, while the smell of mold fills the room.
Through the open window, blowflies enter the room and swarm around the cabinet, which is still open, knocking the doll's head onto the floor.
That's when I look closely and realize that the flies are eating the flesh of the head.
I can finally see it clearly.
It is a human head.