The Sky Remembers
Hi, I’m Nova. My own parents looked me in the eye on a crowded plane and said I looked homeless. Told me not to sit near them like I was some kind of shame.
My mother smirked, mocked me for starring in a sci-fi movie, and the whole cabin laughed like it was the joke of the year.
Do you know what it feels like when strangers join your family in humiliating you? When you want to disappear, but you can’t?
But here’s what none of them knew. Twenty minutes later, every single one of those people—all 216 of them—would owe me their lives.
I could feel it before I even reached the row.
Those stairs. You know the ones—a quick glance up, then down, silently assessing you like you don’t belong. I tugged at the sleeves of my old hoodie, its cuffs frayed from years of use, and clutched my notebook tighter against my chest.
It was the same notebook I’d carried since college, its cover scuffed, pages worn thin from years of writing thoughts I didn’t dare say out loud.
I kept my head low as I moved through the business class cabin, feeling every pair of eyes as if they were weights pressing on my shoulders. Mom—Marcella—was impossible to miss, perfectly put together as always.
Her blonde hair fell just so, not a strand out of place. Her pearl earrings caught the light as if they were mocking me, too.
Next to her was Rex, my brother, sprawled out like he owned the plane, scrolling through his phone with that permanent smirk he’d perfected since high school.
When he spotted me, he didn’t bother hiding his look of disgust. “Finally,” Mom said, her voice loud enough for everyone in a five-row radius to hear. “I was wondering if they’d let someone dressed like that into business class.
You look homeless, Nova.
Could you at least try to look presentable when you’re flying with us?”
It felt like my stomach dropped to my knees. A ripple of soft chuckles came from nearby passengers.
I froze for half a second, unsure if I’d heard her right, or maybe hoping I hadn’t. I opened my mouth to reply, but Rex jumped in before I could.
“Honestly, Mom,” he said, loud and theatrical, “don’t you think she’s going for a look?
You know, like those low-budget sci-fi movies where the lead character is trying to look edgy but just looks tragic.”
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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