Becky watched the man across the aisle with interest. He was drawing something on a sketchpad and she kept craning her neck to try and see what it was.
He kept glancing up at her and she looked away quickly before he could catch her eye. Although she was fluent in seven languages, Becky was afraid to speak to people because she had a stammer. As a child it had only affected her when she was stressed out over something, but it had slowly gotten worse as she grew older until speech was almost a phobia of Becky's. She had barely spoken three sentences in the past few months because of it. People just expected her to stammer now. They joked about it. But for poor Becky it was no laughing matter. She knew she could speak normally, but the fear of what others thought of her was the only thing that was holding her back.
Now don't get the wrong idea about her, Becky was by no means 'nothing special'. She was a stunningly beautiful girl that left most men staring after her long after she had walked past. She had long legs that went on forever and her hair was dark red and hung in loose curls down to her waist. She was fairly slim and she had that perfect hourglass shape that every woman would kill for. But all of these things Rebecca Duarte just didn't realise. She saw herself as plain and insignificant. She didn't know how much of a treasure she really was.
Becky had a cramp in her left foot and so she slowly uncrossed her long legs and stood up to walk down the aisle of the plane. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of what the man had been working on. Immediately she wished she had never looked. He had drawn a picture of a plane in flames, heading towards the sea. Becky's stomach lurched as the plane that she was actually on hit a small patch of turbulence.
She made her way down to the toilet as quickly as possible and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach.
I hate flying! she thought miserably.