That Nauseating Smell

• Ahrieal Dearle, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2022

Standing up, my head pounding and my vision blurred. I stood up and looked in the mirror, I looked like death. I cleaned myself up and looked around. I grabbed my phone to see how long I'd been out but alas it was dead. I looked around the airport bathrooms. It was eerily quiet, I felt someone or something brush up against me, upon turning around I was met with an international arrivals sign. Weird I could have sworn I was just in the bathrooms, I shrugged it off and started to look around until it dawned on me I was alone and the airport was completely isolated. The sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance “oh thank god” i thought to myself. As the footsteps approached the plane, arrival times began to change rapidly, finally spelling out one word “run” . The smell of rotting flesh hit me and without a second thought I darted towards the exit, as I reached the doors I'd realized my mistake. I had run straight for the windows on the completely wrong side of the airport. The putrid smell of rotting flesh flooded my nostrils. The smell was followed by the noise of heavy footsteps and a gun being loaded. Without hesitation I bolted to the nearest closet, upon opening the door I was greeted with a loud shriek and a painful stab to the chest “get away from me you monster” a voice screamed. Me, a monster before I could register what she had said. I was interrupted by that horrible smell, the same smell that followed me around this airport, the repulsive smell of rotting flesh that made my stomach churn. I looked down at my sickly pale hands. That was when I saw it, the decaying state of my hands, chunks of flesh missing and rotting as I watched in horror, the nauseating grey colour of my skin and the smell that radiated from my body. My mind was flooded with memories of the crash, the plane it went down, and my flight went down. I was pronounced dead at the scene, looking up terrified by the gun pointed towards my face. I was dead.