When Carla boards a plane, her healing scars become the object of scorn by a rude couple, leading to a tense confrontation in the cabin. What began as silent patience soon escalates into a scandal requiring the crew’s intervention.
The airport seemed colder than usual, or maybe it seemed that way to me because of the way people were looking at me. I lowered my head, clutching my boarding pass like it was the only thing that kept me going.
The scar on my face was still healing, but I already felt like it was carved into my identity. People didn’t see me anymore – they saw the scar.
The trauma happened a month ago in a car accident. I was a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass cut deeply into my face. The doctors worked quickly, stitching it up carefully, but they couldn’t prevent that laceration.
My dermatologist called it ‘early scar tissue’ – red, shiny and sensitive. The scar stretched from my hair growth line, crossed my eyebrow, cheek and ended at my jaw line. Part of my eyebrow would never grow back, and my cheek was left dented where the cut was deepest.
For weeks my face was hidden under bandages. At first I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. But when the wounds healed and the bandages were removed, I had no choice but to face reality.
My friends tried to cheer me up, telling me it was ‘cool’ and even ‘sexy’ in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers either stared intently or looked away too quickly.
The healing process was long and unpleasant. Every morning I applied ointments recommended by the dermatologist to keep my skin moisturised and clean.
But no remedy could change the shiny, rough appearance of the scar or take away its screaming red colour. I knew it would fade with time, but the thought that it would never completely disappear weighed heavily on my chest.
As I walked to my seat on the plane, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. My heart was pounding.
I took my window seat and immediately put on my headphones, trying to shut out the outside world. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a quiet, peaceful flight.
Conflict in the cabin
I was awakened by loud voices.
You’ve got to be kidding me,’ the man grumbled. – Are these our seats? – He sounded annoyed, as if he was angry with the world.
Rows 5B and 5C,’ the woman said in a disgruntled tone. – It’s okay, just sit down.
The couple sat down next to me, accompanied by grunts and loud rustling of things. I closed my eyes, hoping they wouldn’t hurt me.
We paid for these tickets, and we got-’ The man stopped talking.
Got what? – the woman asked again. – О…
I felt her eyes on me. Goosebumps ran down my spine.
Was this a joke?
I tensed up, my heart racing. Please, just stop talking.
Hey, lady! – the man shouted. I slowly opened my eyes and turned to him. He flinched, then grimaced. – Can’t you cover that up with something?
I froze, too shocked to answer.
Tom,’ the woman hissed, covering her nose with her sleeve. – It’s disgusting. How did she even get on board looking like that?
Exactly! – Tom stepped forward, pointing his finger at me. – It’s a public place, you know. People don’t have to look at… that.
I felt my face heat up. The words stuck in my throat. I wanted to explain myself, to say it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t make a sound.
You’re just going to sit there and not say anything? – The woman blurted out.
Tom waved his hand, attracting the flight attendant’s attention.
Hey! Can we do something? My girlfriend’s having a panic attack.
The stewardess approached, her face calm but stern.
What’s the problem, sir?
The problem is her! – he jabbed his finger at me. – She scares people away!
The stewardess looked at me. A shadow of sympathy flashed in her eyes before she turned back to the man.
Sir, all passengers have a right to be in their seats.
But she looks… awful!
The woman theatrically covered her face with her hands.
The stewardess straightened up, her voice cold:
Sir, madam, I’m asking you to calm down. This behaviour is unacceptable.
Tom snorted:
What’s wrong with you? She’s scaring people!
The stewardess paid no attention to him, instead leaning towards me.
Are you okay?
I nodded, barely holding back tears.
Captain’s reply
A moment later, the captain’s voice came from the speakers:
Dear passengers, the crew has become aware of behaviour that does not meet the standards of respect and comfort on board. We remind you that we do not tolerate discrimination or rude behaviour. Please treat each other with dignity.
A wave of whispers ran through the cabin. People began to turn round.
The stewardess returned:
Sir, madam, you’re being moved to row 22.
What?! We’re not going!
It’s out of the question,’ she replied firmly.
The man turned red with anger.
This is just crazy…
The passengers watched in silence, their faces expressing indignation. There was applause as the couple walked down the aisle.
I bit my lip, holding back tears. This time it was not tears of shame, but of gratitude.
The flight attendant smiled at me:
We’d like to transfer you to business class.
I hesitated.
I don’t want to cause problems…
You’re not. Please let us take care of you.
I nodded.
As I settled into my new place, I stared out the window. For the first time in weeks, I felt something I had forgotten.
Hope.
