When Carla boards a flight, her healing scars become the target of a cruel couple’s disgust, igniting a tense confrontation in the cabin.
What begins as silent endurance soon escalates as the couple demands action, forcing the crew to step in.
The airport felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the way people stared. I kept my head down, gripping my boarding pass like it was the only thing holding me together.
The scar across my face was still healing, but it already felt like it had carved itself into my identity.
People didn’t see me anymore, they saw the scar first.
The injury happened a month ago in a car accident. I had been a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass sliced deep into my face. The doctors were quick to act, stitching me up with precision, but they couldn’t prevent the jagged line from forming.
My dermatologist called it “early scar tissue,” raw, shiny, and red.
It stretched from an inch above my hairline, down my brow, cutting across my cheek, and ending near my jawline. Part of my eyebrow would never grow back, and my cheek had an indentation where the cut had been deepest.
For weeks, my face was covered in bandages. At first, I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror.
But as the wounds closed and the bandages came off, I had no choice but to face it.
My friends tried to cheer me up, calling it badass, even sexy in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers stared or looked away too quickly.
The healing process was slow and uncomfortable. Every morning, I applied the creams and ointments the dermatologist recommended, ensuring the skin stayed clean and hydrated.
But no amount of care could change the shiny, slick appearance or the harsh red lines that seemed to scream for attention.
I knew they’d fade over time, but the thought of them never disappearing entirely sat heavy in my chest.
Now, as I walked to my seat on the plane, I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I dropped into the window seat, my heart racing.
At least I’d boarded early, avoiding the crowds. I slipped my headphones on, letting the music drown out my worries.
Closing my eyes, I prayed for a peaceful, uneventful flight.
I woke up to voices. Loud ones.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” a man grumbled. “These are our seats?” His tone was sharp, like he was angry at the world.
“Row 5B and 5C,” a woman’s voice replied, clipped and impatient.
“It’s fine. Just sit down.”
The couple settled into the seats next to me with a lot of huffing and shuffling. I kept my eyes closed, hoping they’d leave me alone.
The man had a rough, gravelly voice. “I don’t believe this. We pay for this flight, and this is what we get?
Last-minute seats next to—” He stopped.
“Next to what?” the woman asked, her voice rising. “Oh.” I felt her eyes on me. My skin prickled.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
I stayed still, my heart pounding. Please just stop talking.
“Hey, lady!” the man barked. I opened my eyes slowly and turned toward him.
He flinched, then scowled. “Can’t you cover that up or something?”
I blinked, too stunned to speak.
“Tom,” the woman hissed, covering her nose with her sweater sleeve. “That’s disgusting.
How did they even let her board like that?”
“Exactly!” Tom leaned forward, pointing a finger at me. “This is a public place, you know? People don’t need to see… that.”
I felt my face flush.
The words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain, to tell them it wasn’t something I could help, but no sound came out.
“Are you just going to sit there?” the woman said, her voice sharp and nasally. “Unbelievable.”
Tom leaned into the aisle and waved down a flight attendant.
“Hey! Can you do something about this? My girlfriend is freaking out.”
The flight attendant approached, her expression calm but serious.
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Tom said. “Look at her!” He jabbed a thumb in my direction. “It’s upsetting my girlfriend.
Can you move her to the back or something?”
The attendant’s eyes shifted to me. Her face softened for a moment before she turned back to the man. “Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats.
Is there something I can help you with?”
“I just told you!” Tom snapped. “She’s sitting there looking like that. It’s gross.
She should have to cover it up or move.”
The woman added, “I can’t even look at her. I’ll throw up.”
The flight attendant straightened, her tone cool and firm. “Sir, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voices.
This kind of behavior is not acceptable.”
Tom scoffed. “Behavior? What about her behavior?
It’s inconsiderate! She’s scaring people!”
The attendant ignored him and crouched slightly toward me. “Miss, are you okay?”
I nodded stiffly, barely holding back tears.
The attendant stood tall again.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice steady. “Excuse me for a moment.”
As she walked toward the cockpit, Tom leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath. The woman beside him folded her arms and glared out the aisle.
I stared at the window, wishing I could disappear.
The cabin was quiet except for the low hum of the engines. I kept my eyes on the seatback in front of me, trying not to cry. A few rows back, someone whispered.
I imagined they were talking about me.
The intercom crackled. The captain’s voice came through, calm but firm.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve been made aware of behavior that does not align with the respectful environment we strive to maintain on this flight.
Let me remind everyone that harassment or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. Please treat your fellow passengers with dignity.”
The announcement sent a ripple through the cabin. Heads turned, passengers shifting in their seats as they glanced toward row 5.
I caught sight of someone across the aisle shaking their head in disapproval, and my stomach twisted.
The flight attendant returned, standing tall and composed. She leaned into our row and addressed the couple directly. “Mr.
and Ms., I’ll need you to move to seats 22B and 22C at the back of the plane.”
The man looked stunned. “What?” he barked. “We’re not moving!”
“Sir,” the flight attendant said firmly, “this is not negotiable.
Your behavior has disrupted the flight, and we need to ensure a comfortable environment for all passengers.”
“This is ridiculous,” the woman snapped, pulling her sweater tighter around her. “Why are we the ones being punished? She’s the one causing the problem!”
The flight attendant didn’t flinch.
“Ma’am, your new seats are ready. Please gather your belongings.”
The man scowled, his face flushed red with anger. “This is insane,” he muttered, yanking his bag from under the seat.
The woman followed, grumbling loudly as she snatched her purse. Passengers nearby watched silently, their expressions ranging from disapproval to quiet satisfaction.
As the couple shuffled down the aisle, someone clapped. Then another.
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