..no, it hasnt happened yet, but I wrote a story of what it might be like for my english homework (thus the vocabulary) and thought you guys might like it!

     It was a pacific day.  I had spent the past few weeks working on my Pilots License, and I had taken numerous lessons.   This day I was flying in the little red conveyance of the local flight school, a nice Cessna 150.  My instructor was in the right seat, and we were doing patterns, flying around the airport and the surrounding area making countless touch and gos.  I knew in the back of my mind that this day would come, but I didn’t expect so soon.  I turned onto final, and I heard over the radio the gabble of my instructor.
     “Kilo Juliet Hotel Lima traffic, Cessna November Three Four Six Sierra is on final, runway 8, to land”.  I knew what all that meant.  Instead of doing our planned touch and go, we were going to stop.  I didn’t want to, but I knew what would come next. 
     After another impeccable landing, I turned off the runway and the instructor told me to stop the plane.  He turned and said that I had been flying without any problems, and that I had been flying with him for so long that I could handle it alone without any problems.  He got out of the plane, and I began to barter with him to wait for another day. 
     “I’m not ready yet!” I yelled to him.  I began to castigate him for even beginning to think I could handle a solo.  All he did was laugh, and told me that I would be fine, and if I had any problems I could talk to him on the radio.  He reminded me that I had never had any default before, and all my flying was perfect.  Before I could even utter one more word, he slammed the door shut.  I was alone, the only person on the plane.  I announced over the radio that I was taxiing for takeoff, and as I began taxi, I collated all of the reasons why I was okay.  I felt confident in my flying, but it still was worrying to be all alone.  I was scared as I held short at the runway for a Piper Cherokee to land that I began to wonder what type of urn I would be put in when I crashed.
     I turned onto the runway and with a deep breath I pushed in the throttle and the plane began to roll.  My heart felt as if it was beating in time with the planes engine, and as I gained enough speed, I pulled the plane into a precipitous climb and within moments I was flying again.  That’s when I felt a mutation.  I realized that I had nothing to worry about.  I thought of the hundreds of flight hours I had gotten on flight simulator.  I realized that I was not just another crazy student pilot, but I was a pilot, destined to get my license soon.  I finally felt confident, but soon my confidence was subdued.  I wasn’t the only one to have a mutation.  The weather quickly worsened, as giant clouds appeared below me.  My instructor must have felt my worry, as I heard his abstruse words come over the radio.  He was trying to reassure me.  I still could see the airport through an aperture in the clouds, so I felt safe, but not confident.  Turbulence began to shake the plane in an emetic fashion, and I brought it around on base.  I finally felt confident again, but I then I realized I had to land.
     As I lined the plane up for final, I felt as if my life was flashing before my eyes.  I had landed numerous times, but never alone.  Getting up was easy.  Flying was easy.  But putting the plane on the ground was hard.  For some reason the only thought going through my mind was that of the saying “any landing you can walk away from is a good landing”.  That thought made my visualize a heap of metal of my former plane and me climbing out, my skin excoriating against the rough metal.  I was scared.  As I crossed the tarmac, everything seemed okay.  I pulled back on the throttle, flared, and heard the familiar screech of the tires touching down.  I eased onto the brakes, and before I knew it, I was off the runway with my instructor running to the door.  I did it.  I had flown my first solo.
     

LOL... good idea, bringing your thesaurus along to compensate for the instructor's missing weight... "pacific"... "abstruse"... "emetic"... LOL!!


You're not far off the mark, though- that's pretty much what it's like for everybody.
And yes, the important thing to remember as a student facing that first solo is that you've already done it without the CFI touching anything or even coaching you, or you wouldn't be getting the green light to go solo.

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I think I get it now: you had a list of "five dollar words" that you had to use in the story, right?
Been so long since I was saddled with that nearly-impossible task that it didn't occur to me..
However, the thing I see that really makes those cumbersome words  stick out ("cumbersome"; nice word there) is that when you seem unsure of such a word, you set it in a very minimal, unsupportive sentence. "It was a pacific day" is tough, because hardly anybody uses that adjective anymore, especially to describe the weather. One more sentence or phrase that elaborates on that would make better use of the word... and get you closer to the minimum number of words or pages.
For example: "It was a pacific day, with gentle winds and scattered small clouds. The sun beamed benignly in the deep blue sky..."
"Benignly"... another good one...
You see what Imean... unusual or archaic words usually require a little window-dressing, or they just sort of lay down and die, instead of leaping off the page. An important goal is to convince the reader that even if they[i/] have no clue what the word means, at least [i]you do...

Hang in there; soon enough you'll be done with school, then you can really learn how to write.