 It was 1997, and I was moving from the United States to White Horse Yukon. It was a local flight on a single-engine plane from Washington, and as far as everyone else knows, Air Canada Flight 52 never happened. But it did, and I was there to witness the horror that happened on it. I'd gotten onto the plane to see my friend Sophie. I'd met her online while I was in college four years ago. She's the one who convinced me to go to Canada. The plane took off half an hour late due to a quick change of the pilot. I found this odd at the time, since I'd never heard of pilots needing to change on such short notice. About three hours in, we saw the first sign of the storm. A large grayish-green thunderstorm rumbled around us. It practically came out of nowhere. I hadn't noticed at first as I was listening to my Walkman and trying to ignore the crying child behind me. I looked outside of my window and saw what at first was the most beautiful thing in my life, Aurora Borealis. In a thunderstorm, I ignored the weirdness at the time and admired the flowing lights. Then a blot of lightning shot upwards, right past the left wing. My eyes widened as the cabin lights flickered. The lights shut off, and a red light slowly blinked from above the pilot's door. The baby wasn't crying anymore, and my heart stopped as a screen momentarily sounded, then cut off. The light snapped back on, and I jumped out of my seat. The other passengers gave me weird looks before seeming to notice what was wrong. Where did that lady and her child go? An old lady asked. A man responded. Maybe she took the child to the bathroom? A lump formed in my throat. What about the lights? I shouted. Everyone else looked at me like I'd spoken in alien language. What about them? The man responded. They just turned off. Didn't you see it? I demanded. I couldn't help how scared I sounded. The old lady shook her head slowly. Sorry, dear. I know my memory isn't great, but I don't remember that. She said. I felt hysterical. Did I imagine that? Is it a trick of the lights? But where was the woman? I clutched my arm, trying to stop it from shaking. I'm sure she'll come back soon, I thought to myself. The others went back to their activities soon after, doing what we did before we had portable electronics, sleeping. Some people read books as well. I stared out at the aurora, watching it move like distant waves. The plane shook and I nearly fell out of my seat. Sorry about that, folks. Just some turbulence, said the pilot. Across from my row was a kid, only 12 years old at the time. She was staring at me with horrified eyes. Then the light shut off again. That flashing red light slowly illuminating the cabin. I looked around wildly and saw a blur. I still can't decide what color it was. A flash of blood flew across the front wall. It's something I still can't get out of my head. Then the lights came back on and the cabin was returned to its pristine condition. No blood, no anomaly, and no front row. My God! A woman screamed from the second row. I ran up to the front of the cabin and I saw bones. Where each passenger once sat was now a cage of bones with the skull barely visible in the middle. Did you see what did this? I asked the woman who'd screamed. She met my eyes. No, I woke up during the turbulence and was asking a gentleman up here when we were landing when she trailed off. My skin felt hot. I looked back at the kid. She was covering her face and sobbing quietly. I walked down the row to her. Hey, did you? Did you see what did this? I asked softly, crouching down. She was sitting alone on the right now. Nobody else sat near her. She wiped a tear from her eye and she looked at me. I felt whatever soul I had shiver like I jumped into an Arctic lake. You didn't see it. She whispered her eyes pride open. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, an incredibly murderous ghost. I made a quick decision in case it came after her next. Come sit with me, I said. She looked around the cabin before undoing her seatbelt and walking with me to my row. The others were looking at the bone boxes out of the 21 passengers. Only 15 were left. A British couple in the fourth row was gossiping. I was in the eighth row with the kid. When something hit the plane, not lightning and not turbulence, it was something solid. I couldn't see it, but I felt it scratch the plane side. The light shot off again and this time no red light. The kid gripped my hand. I felt something breathing down my neck hotter and hotter with each breath. When the lights flicked back on, only six of us remained. That's when I had a thought and I couldn't help but say it aloud. Are the pilots still here? I asked. A man looked at me. I got out of my seat and rushed with him to the pilot's cabin. We busted the door open and they were gone. Shit, I yelled. Only the plane made a large screeching sound and the four of us standing fell onto the floor. My heart dropped as fast as the plane. We were descending. Get ready. I yelled. We're about to. I'm not sure what happened at that moment, but everything went black. And when I came to I was laying in the snow sirens wind behind me. I sat up and I was in pain. The plane had crashed into the side of a mountain. A deep scratch was dug into the left side of it. It's beautiful white paint ripped open in a dark metal gash. The nose was broken. The pilot's cabin was completely wrecked. I stood up and walked up to the left wing. It was dipped into the thick snow. I looked up at the top of the plane and I felt my heart go numb. My hands felt drained of blood and my head seemed to be melting. Up in the storm was a large group of people holding hands, floating in the northern lights. Thunder beat my eardrums and a bolt of lightning made them vanish. I walked up to the wing and pride opened the door. I looked into the cabin to find no one there except kid. I yelled I ran over to her and knelt beside her. She looked up at me and hugged me. I was shocked, but I hugged her back. I was just glad that she was alive. A creek came from the pilot's cabin and the door fell off. On the other side was blood gallons upon gallons of blood. I held on to the kid and I jumped out sliding down the wing. I held the kid in my arms as we staggered to the other survivors. My feet were soaked in the blood from the plane and I passed out soon after that. When I finally got to Sophie, I told her what happened. She believed me, which I shouldn't have been surprised about since she was a huge paranormal fan. I still keep in touch with some of the survivors. Their stories are the same as mine without the anomaly of the lights. I married Sophie in 2001 and am still happily living with her to this day. I thought that part of my life was over, that I could move on. Until tonight, when I looked outside of my window and I saw those same lights.