When I was seven years old and sitting on the plane, the trip seemed ordinary. The flight duration was an hour and a half, traveling from Tehran to Kermanshah. About 40 minutes into the flight, something happened that I will never forget. The sound of the plane’s engine changed, and I noticed the plane had tilted. Suddenly, terrifying screams filled the cabin.

 

It seems to me that it must have been a shocking and violent feeling when the plane tipped. The sensation was intense and disorienting. It felt like we were lying on our sides. Without my seatbelt, I would have certainly fallen or been thrown from my seat. I grabbed the armrests tightly, feeling as if I needed to hold on to stay upright.

 

Most of the passengers were speaking Arabic because the plane was full of Iraqis who intended to return to Iraq from Kermanshah. I couldn’t understand their words, and this inability to comprehend what they were saying made my fear and anxiety even worse. My four-year-old sister was sitting next to me and, unlike me, she wasn’t anxious at all. She thought it was all like an amusement park and excitedly told my mom, “Mom, this is so cool!” I felt like the plane could crash at any moment.

 

Thoughts of death swirled in my head, and the idea that I might never see my father again filled my throat with a lump. I am very attached to my father, and just the thought of being separated from him deeply troubled me.

 

As the plane shook, the luggage fell into the aisle. The scream of one woman yelling, “We are going to die,” hit my heart like a hammer and intensified my fear to the extreme. The scenes and sounds reminded me of horror movies, but this time everything was real, and there was no escape. I didn’t want to die, and this terrifying feeling overwhelmed me.

 

After what seemed like endless minutes, the pilot announced that we had to make an emergency landing in Kermanshah. As we approached the ground, I wondered if the plane was still tipped. The landing was bumpy, each jolt making my heart skip a beat. The plane eventually leveled out, but my anxiety remained high.

 

When the plane landed, we were surrounded by ambulances and fire trucks. The sound of their sirens was like a whisper of life reaching my ears, and at that moment, only their presence brought a bit of comfort. Reflecting on the landing, I felt a mix of emotions about the pilot. On one hand, I was grateful for their skill in bringing us down safely, but on the other, I was upset that something I trusted – a flight in an airplane – could go so wrong. It was unsettling to realize that such a routine part of life could turn dangerous so quickly.

 

This experience marked the most terrifying moments of my life, and for ten years after that, I was afraid to fly.

 

Even now, whenever I think about that day, my heart beats faster. This incident taught me how fragile life is and that we should appreciate every moment.