As Mrs. Johnson lay in bed and tried her best to get some sleep, like most nights it was almost impossible. She had a hard time closing her eyes without seeing things from the past she didn't want to relive. But every night when she closed here eyes, the images of what happened over the past five years start to flood her mind like the mother of all instant replays. No matter how hard she tried, the images of what happened that day never left her head, especially when she's was laying there with nothing else to do. Sometimes distractions helped her fall asleep, like watching late night shows or getting some warm milk from the kitchen. Yet that night was different, as she wasn't in the mood for either and had tried to just fall asleep the old fashioned way. It never stopped that amazing memory of hers from stopping the replays from coming back to her. She still remembered it all like it was the day before.
She was sitting in her chair in the middle of her row, and was eager to ask for a pillow. Usually during these long cross continental flights, it was easier for her to just sleep while they were in the air, which helped the time pass a lot faster. As the passengers stepped onto the plane and began to pack their overstuffed carry on bags into the overhead compartment, everything seemed rather normal that day. The weather was perfect, the skies were clear, which was nice because messy weather always made her nervous whenever she flew.
The stewards did their normal and very lame airline safety skit. As if anyone would remember that crap if it ever hit the fan, she remembered thinking to herself that day. Nope, everyone would be running for their lives and thinking of only number 1 had anything bad were to occur. She knew that and it was the reason why she specifically chose a seat very close to the emergency exits so that if necessary she can make a quick escape before mass panic picked up within the cramped cabin. The plane didn't have any trouble making it out of the airport as traffic on the ground was pretty loose and easy moving. They were able to taxi out to the runway and take off in good time. This meant the pilot wouldn't have to risk speeding up to make up for lost time as they traveled across the country. There were not in the air for any more than an hour before the plane changed directions. She looked around to see what might be going and even asked the steward but the entire staff was rather tight lipped. When they started to make a decent, that's when people started to get upset and frustrated. The stewards started to tell the passengers that there was a mechanical problem that needed to be taken care of immediately just for the sake of caution.
That seemed to settle people down as many liked the fact that the pilot was just being safe and responsible with their lives. It was when the airliner taxied to an empty cargo bay that started to cause the real problems. The plane was immediately boarded by armed men dressed in black body armor, looking like a swat team from a corny action film. This was when Mrs. Johnson saw Mr. Carlson for the first time, as he was the only non-masked man to step onboard. He had raised his hands as he tried to settle down the nervous passengers.
"Please try to remain calm." Carlson said in a civil tone as he raised a badge for all to see, "I'm a Federal Agent. We have boarded this plane because we received intel of a possible hostile threat. We need to evacuate the plane immediately so that we can get this plane inspected as soon as possible. Once that's finished, we'll have you back onboard and in the air as soon as possible. You're not the only plane being inspected today, but we have to take every threat seriously, so help us out and co-operate with these men and we'll try to get this taken care of quickly. Thank you."
After hearing the news of a possible hostilities the passengers wanted to get off the plane wondering if there was a bomb onboard, and co-operated as they were shuffled off the plane and led outside where another large number of masked swat wannabes were waiting outside. Once off the plane, the masked men were taking passengers and breaking them up into specific groups and then leading them away to a certain door at the back of the hangar. She didn't know quite to make of it but would soon find out as one of the men asked her to follow him. She did as she was told and walked with several others who were also asked to follow. When they walked through the door, there was a black van with heavily tinted windows waiting. It was like a police paddy wagon and when one of the passengers realized he wasn't going to get back into the cargo bay and onto the plane, he started to resist. It took a few minutes but he was coaxed into the van by force and tossed in. Mrs. Johnson didn't put up a fight and slowed stepped in as well and took a seat. The masked men closed the doors and locked them up. One of them slapped the back door to let the driver know it was secure. The car started up immediately and began to drive away from the hangar for an unknown destination.
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That was the last she would ever see of Flight 77, and days later she would be informed of her death at the hand of terrorists who were attacking America via suicide missions with hijacked airliners. She knew it was all a lie, but she wasn't in a position to offer any resistance of any kind. If they were willing to conduct a fraud that massive on the public, there was no telling what they would be willing to do to her to keep her silent. It was this fear that kept her quiet and co-operative.
Mrs. Johnson sat up and turned the light beside her bed back on. She couldn't forget that day, as every detail came back to her as if it just happened yesterday. The smell of the hangar that reeked of fuel and the masked man who obviously had too many coffees that morning and never bothered to pop and breathe mint were all engraved in her memory. There were days she couldn't stop crying in anger for what had happened to her, and then there were other days when she considered herself lucky to be alive. There had been rumors that the other plane in Pennsylvania had been shot down and never made it to the hangar where she and here passengers were carried from. That could have easily been their plane had the powers that be merely wished it to be. She was alive and despite her secret past, able to live a somewhat normal life.
So why did she feel the need to attend that vigil?
The answer was the loss of her son. Nothing had made her feel worse then the news about how David had taken her death. Her passive young man uncharacteristically joined the military and eagerly went to Afghanistan to personally kick Osama's ass and deliver a little vengeance in her name. Her son was always a good kid who never reacted with such anger in all the time she had known him. David was the kind of boy who would never hit back, and always turned the other cheek when challenged to any kind of fight on the playground. He refused to play football and joined the chess club because it wasn't as stressing and he wasn't comfortable with the idea of hitting other people or using his body as a weapon. So his eagerness to volunteer for the military and go to war came as a complete shock to her. He must have taken a lot of the enemy out because he had been decorated many times with medals for his work. Mr. Carlson had personally delivered a picture of him receiving one of the medals for her to hang up in her house. She didn't hang it up, but found a place for it so she could go back to it every now and then. It was nice to have a new photo of one of her kids, but it felt weird to see her little boy in uniform and receiving a medal for doing something so barbaric.
It was the news of David's death that made for one of the worst days of her life. She cried for what felt like months but was only a few weeks and dived into complete depression. It became so bad that Mr. Carlson had her committed to a psychiatric ward at a military hospital for a few weeks. She blamed herself for the death of her son, because he wouldn't have stormed off for war if she hadn't disappeared. If she hadn't been on that plane and more eager to spend time with her sister than be home with her family, then her son wouldn't have marched off to war and eventually towards his own death. It took a long time for her to let it go and try to move on.
The vigil was her attempt to make amends and in her own way apologize to David for tricking him into thinking that he needed to go out there and do something like that for her. She was racked with guilt, but never expected to see Jessica out there. She had no idea that her daughter was so political and even attending these vigils. She was so young and full of herself to the point where the vigil was the last place she ever expected her daughter to show up. Jessica was a brat, someone who only worried about where her next allowance was going to come from, so for her to attend an event such as the vigil was proof that a lot of growing up had taken place in her absence.
Her brother's death must have caused more change in Jessica than she had originally thought. The more she thought about Jessica, she only had one question going through her head: what was she going to do about it? Was she going to look for her mother or dismiss what she saw and move on with her life? Mrs. Johnson also wondered if there was someone out there that could help her if she did want to look for her mother. Someone to show her the way and protect her from Carlson and Smith. It was a lot to ask for, but she prayed that night before trying to sleep again. She prayed for the safety of her daughter and the people who would help her, while also hoping that they would find her so she could be reunited with her child. It was a lot to ask for, but she had to keep faith that Jessica would try to find her. At the moment it was the only hope she had left.