It was Halloween, and the flight had experienced a massive delay due to some unknown reason. This resulted in the majority of passengers being reassigned to other flights, leaving only a handful of us stranded at the airport. Despite the long wait, I oddly found comfort in sharing the cabin with fewer passengers, a luxury typically reserved for first-class travelers.
When it was time to board, I seized the opportunity to choose a seat of my liking. Most passengers gravitated towards the rear of the plane, so I opted for a quiet corner seat in the front section, where only a few passengers seemed to know each other based on their seating arrangement. The flight, originally scheduled during the day, had now turned into an overnight journey. It didn’t bother me much, but it did rob me of the spectacular view outside the window. Instead, I shifted my focus to the interior of the cabin.
Despite the common illusion that planes are more spacious inside, the enclosed space always made me slightly uncomfortable. I usually needed a distraction like a book or music. As I contemplated taking out my phone, a flight attendant approached me with a rather unusual request. She asked if I could move to a different seat with the other passengers. Perplexed, I agreed, assuming there was a valid reason behind her request. I would later regret not asking her why at the time.
Shortly after settling into my new seat, the entire cabin fell into an eerie silence. Conversations among passengers transformed into hushed whispers of shock and disbelief. It was as if a heavy shroud of sorrow had descended upon the cabin, and the thought of never feeling cheerful again became pervasive. I couldn’t ignore the fact that something strange was happening, prompting me to investigate.
My initial disbelief turned into shock as I looked around. A dead body was seated nearby, and the realization that I would be sharing a small cabin with this lifeless figure for the remainder of the flight sent a chill down my spine. While I understood that the flight staff might be following some procedure, the macabre turn of events left me feeling deeply unsettled.
I decided to take refuge in the restroom, hoping to collect my thoughts and regain my composure. Inside, I urged myself to stay calm; after all, I wasn’t alone on the plane. A few minutes later, a loud thud against the restroom door startled me. The banging stopped suddenly, leaving me alone with only my racing heartbeat. Strangely, I felt less secure inside the restroom than I did outside among the passengers. I waited cautiously for a few moments before carefully cracking open the door, searching for any signs of danger.
As I peered out, ready to return to my seat discreetly, the same flight attendant from earlier appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She was pushing a service trolley and narrowly missed hitting me with it. It was as though she had just served beverages to some passengers. What struck me as odd was her apparent obliviousness to the previous loud banging on the restroom door. She remained silent, her gaze fixed on me with suspicion, as if she suspected I had uncovered something. I quickly broke eye contact and returned to my seat, almost forgetting about the corpse in the corner behind me.
I still can’t believe I walked past the lifeless passenger without noticing. Perhaps I was distracted by the flight attendant’s odd behavior or the fact that none of the other passengers seemed to have heard the loud banging on the restroom door. It occurred to me that it might have been a prank—after all, it was Halloween. At least I had a spooky story to share with my young nephews when I got home, even if I couldn’t reveal the full truth of what had transpired on that flight—until now.
