She sat next to me on the plane to New York. We had just finished arguing, this time about how she almost lost her passport.

She’s my twin sister, and we fight constantly. Over books, over rooms, over food. Sometimes, I wish I could be far away from her. Mom always says that one day I’ll be grateful to have a twin. But I never really believe her.

I leaned back in my seat, trying to quiet the thoughts in my head. I closed my eyes, hoping for a long, dreamless sleep.

A soft ding broke through the hum of the cabin. The flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom, calm but firm: “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re expecting a brief period of turbulence. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened.”

The cabin grew still for a moment, then the first drop hit. Drinks sled off people’s trays. Outside the window, there was nothing but thick white cloud. No ground. No sky. Just motion.

Another followed, one harder, sudden and sharp. The overhead lights flickered. Somewhere nearby, a baby began to cry,

I started counting in my heart. “One, two, three, four, five…” I didn’t even know what I was counting toward. Maybe I thought the turbulence would stop if I reached the right number. Or maybe I just needed something to hold onto, something that felt steady.

Then I felt her hand. She reached across the armrest and grabbed mine without a word. We clutched tight. I looked over at her. She didn’t say anything, and neither did I, but we held on tightly as the plane continued to shake around us. 

I recalled many moments, sharing a bowl of potatoes in our hometown, visiting schools abroad together, studying together in the library. We were always there for each other. Now that we’re going to be in different schools, I realize that sometimes we take things for granted, only learning to cherish them once they're gone.

Another jolt hit, and I shut my eyes tight, gripping her hand even harder. Her pulse was fast. So was mine. The plane felt tiny in the vast sky. Everything seemed out of control, and I didn’t feel steady. It felt like one small push could send us straight into the ocean. 

Eventually, the turbulence eased. The plane steadied. The shaking faded into a quiet stillness, like the sky had finally taken a breath. The seatbelt sign turned off. Through the window, I could see sunlight breaking through the clouds. Pale golden light filled the cabin, settling softly on her face.