Icarus Alternate Ending

Alone, alone in the seemingly perpetual darkness. Icarus groped around for a light, but instead found only empty air. He raced forward in the twisting and narrow passageways, his hands in front of him, desperately trying to outrun that monster that was relentlessly pursuing him. His heart pumped rapidly, his breath came in short puffs, and cold sweat dripped down his brow. As he sprinted ahead, he found a door, yanked it open rapidly, and suddenly felt himself sucked into empty space, falling down, down, down, down…
“Ahh!” Icarus screamed as he felt the agony of his body hitting the stone bottom. Then, with a sudden revelation, he realized that he was hugging his pillow. With his breath still in gasps and covered in a film of cold sweat, he

looked around at his still sleeping family members, and came to the conclusion that the scream must have only been in his dream. Glancing at the wall clock, which read 3:00, he curled up in the blankets and tried to fall back asleep, but that sickening feeling of falling crept over him.
“I detest heights,” he thought and shuddered. Taking the airplane here had already sapped all of his courage. He felt so jealous of his little sister, who somehow managed to calmly sleep though the takeoff and landing. As he drifted back into sleep, he mentally prepared himself for today’s flight back to San Francisco, his home.
“Come on, come on, wake up already!” his little sister called. ”Today we’re going back home! We’re going back home!”
“Fine, fine!” Icarus said exasperatedly, “I’m getting up, there’s no need to push me.”
He pulled off his covers, got dressed and joined his family downstairs in the hotel breakfast. The simple breakfast featured scrambled eggs, breakfast sausages, some bread, and pastries. Icarus ignored the bread, took a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages with two pastries, and joined his family at the table.
As he ate, his mind started straying to more unpleasant thoughts. He remembered the flight to here, with the terrifying takeoff, the uncomfortable ascent, and the torturous landing, but he simple refused to remember the turbulence, which had been so embarrassing… Then, he remembered his dream. That feeling of falling to his death, the stabbing pain of his body hitting the floor, and the hopelessness that coursed throughout his body in his final moments in the dream haunted him.
“Great weather for airplane riding today,” he heard as his father’s voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through warm butter, “No rough winds, rain, or cloud cover. The perfect sunny day.”
After his family got prepared to leave, they headed out of the Robert Treat Hotel and drove to the airport, which took roughly around 13 minutes. When Icarus glimpsed the first row of airplanes with their metallic bodies glinting in the morning sun, he felt a wave of nausea slam into him. He hated heights so much that even the mere thought airplanes made him nauseous.
“What flight are we on, Dad?” Icarus asked tentatively.
“United Air, flight 93. We’re departing at 8:00 in the morning.” His father replied.
After the check in, security, 45 minute delay, and boarding, Icarus was sitting in the Boeing 757, which surprisingly only had around 50 people in it.
“This is the captain speaking. Welcome aboard United Air, flight 93. This flight is bound for San Francisco, and it will take around 7 hours. The weather is very nice, with clear skies. We hope you will enjoy flying with United Air.” The intercom blared.
“Oh no!” Icarus thought. “We’re going to be in the air soon, and I have to go through that hated takeoff again.”
“Wait, Dad.

Can you help me with my fear of heights?” Icarus questioned.
“Well,” his father replied, “As long as you just close your eyes and take deep breaths, it will be less terrifying.”
When the takeoff came, Icarus tried to follow his father’s advice, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Although it did help, Icarus still felt that cold fist of fear well up inside him. He gritted his teeth, and forced it down.
After the plane got to a certain altitude, Icarus calmed down enough to stop gripping the armrests and relax in his seat. Icarus feverishly hoped that there would be no turbulence, since the last time there was, he did something so undignified that he refused to think of it. He reclined his seat, took a few deep breaths, and waited for the flight to end.
Suddenly, there was a loud scuffling noise in the cockpit, followed by groans and squelching noises, which continued for several minutes. Icarus leaned forward curiously. “What was going on?” He thought.
After a while, the intercom said, “Ladies and gentlemen: Here is the captain. Please sit down, keep remaining seating. We have a bomb on board. So sit.”
When everybody in his family processed these words, his little sister gripped his arm and asked in a small voice, “Are we going to

die?”
Icarus didn’t have an answer to that question, so he said, “I don’t know, sis. Maybe if we do what they want us to do, we might be able to survive,”
Suddenly, he was aware of the lack of people around him, and he saw passengers getting out of their seats and heading silently to the back of the plane.
“Mom,” he asked, “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to go to the back of the plane to discuss what to do,” she replied.
So, Icarus joined the rest of the passengers and crew in the back of the plane. When everyone was present, a man stood on a seat and said in a low voice, “I’m going to call home and find out what’s going on. And if I’m going to die, I want my wife to know that I love her with all my heart.”
All the passengers murmured consent, and several others took out phones and also dialed home as well.
After a few minutes, Icarus heard another broadcast, this time saying, “Here's the captain. I would like to tell you all to remain seated. We have a bomb aboard, and we are going back to the airport, and we have our demands. So, please remain quiet.”
When the man on his phone hung up, he whispered in a quivering voice, “There were two planes that crashed into the Twin Towers today.”
With that statement, chaos broke throughout the back of the plane. Men and women were all talking together, processing in that chilling piece of information.
“Stop,” exclaimed a women. “Here’s the facts. Two planes were hijacked and were crashed into the Twin Towers. So, we must assume that our flight is also hijacked and is going to crash into something important to the U.S.”
“Are we to stand here and not do anything?” another person said. “We can’t just stand here and do nothing.”
Suddenly, Icarus realized something. Standing on a seat, he told the passengers, “We’re going to die. It doesn’t matter if we stand here and do nothing, or if we do something. Actually, if we manage to take back control of the plane, we might be able to survive. We need to do something! If we don’t, we are already dead.”
His words sobered up the passengers, and they gazed at each other with fearful expressions etched upon their faces.
His father then asked, “Okay, let’s vote. How many people want to take action?”
All of the passengers raised their hands silently, and with grim faces, they listened as Icarus’s father outlined a daring plan to take back the airplane. The plan was dangerous, but if they didn’t do it, they were definitely dead. First, the flight attendants would get scalding water to throw at the hijackers, and they would use the food card at a battering ram to break down the cockpit door and enter. Once they were in the door, they would attempt to take control of the plane, or die trying.
After everything was ready, Icarus’s mom hugged him and his sister and told them that she loved them more than life. And then, a man on a phone said, “You ready? Ok. Let’s roll.”
A person started pushing the food cart up the aisle of the 757, and Icarus was racing right behind him. They raced forward as one, charging towards the cockpit door, knowing that their final moments would be decided in the next few moments. As the first person, started ramming the cart against the cockpit door, the terrorists pitched the plane up, down, left, and right. Icarus fell down, and when he regained his feet, he saw that the cockpit door was open. Charging in, he grabbed the control stick. A passenger or terrorist behind him said, “I’m injured.”
The terrorist who he was fighting got the control stick exclaimed, “Hey. Hey. Give it to me!” He also said a lot of short phrases in what Icarus assumed was Muslim.
“No,” Icarus yelled
Suddenly, the terrorist jerked the control stick, and the plane went backward, hurtling towards the ground. Icarus knew the crash would be deadly, but as the plane fell, he clung onto hope, the hope that he might survive, but that hope, with his life, was quenched on that fateful flight, so far, so far, from home.
Epilogue
On that fateful day, September 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The nation will never forget the brave men and women who gave their lives in order to make sure that one of the nation’s most famous icons remained–the White House. Analysts have all agreed that United Airlines Flight 93 was bound to crash into the White House. By taking down the plane and sacrificing their lives, the brave passengers ensured that this icon of the United States remains undamaged, and flourishing for all of us to see today. This story is intended to honor the fallen heroes of Flight 93. For the most detailed account possible, I have included exact phrases and words recorded in the cockpit voice recorder, so that may be the reason for choppy phrases or unclear words. May the world never forget these heroes and their bravery.