Straight Outta Honolulu

LAX

"SANDRA! Check your room to see if you left anything behind." Yells my mom placing a big box into the moving van.

I go inside and enter my room, it's never been so empty before. The light blue walls look naked without their decorations hanging from them. The woods never looked this smooth before. All the corners are empty, all the places where my room looked the messiest have never looked cleaner. My whole entire room was absolutely empty, nothing inside. My heart is pounding. I smell the cool salty air, smile to myself, and close the door.

It was a long drive to the airport, but it seemed short. I watched out the window as I saw the beautiful, blue Hawaiian beach rush up and down as we drove by. I knew that I could never feel what I've ever felt surfing in Hawaii, it will never be the same, even if I get to surf in California.

The rest of the trip was a blur. We arrived at the airport, and the moving company moved our boxes to the belly of the plane. The plane ride was boring, we had been able to watch movies though, but I didn't feel like it. I was still going about in my head that we were moving. MOVING! Finally the plane arrived at LAX and as soon as I stepped off the plane and into the airport, I looked out. The sky was big and clear blue, the clouds had gone, and the bright yellow sun was out all the way, it was hurting my eyes from looking at it. Outside the windows, were big tall buildings and dozens of cars parked outside, and others driving by. I smelled the air. It no longer smelled fresh and salty, like Hawaii, instead it smelled like air conditioning and heat. Gosh it was hot out here. There were people everywhere running and walking around. Men with suits and ties, women in dresses and heels, teenagers with hoods, and hats, and little kids sleeping on luggages. The airport was way bigger than the airport in Hawaii.

"And this isn't even all of it." says my dad, thinking that I'd be impressed. I just shrug, placing my water bottle back into my mom's backpack. Afterward, we took an uber to drive us to our new place. My head was out of the window, looking at all the sights to see. The big, white, LAX sign whizzed past us, but I could still see the pigeons sitting on it. For a while, it was just roads, and cars, but once we got to the neighborhood, I could finally see some sanctuary from the car. My new house was medium, with dark brown roof trims, and a beige body. The house was some-what similar to the others, but not exactly cookie-cutter. I spotted a kid, at a house right next to mine, he looked around my age with a little girl in a blue dress, she looked like she was crying, and she was yelling at him, but he was just standing there, staring at a bush.

"AH! Look Sandy, there are kids in this neighborhood, you can go out sometime and try to make some friends." My mother says. I don't respond.

"Can we just get inside? I wanna decorate my bedroom.''

"Well you gotta wait honey, we only brought a few small things, everything else is still on its way.''

We then exited the car and made our way to the house. Both the boy and the little girl stare at me, watching my every move as if I was a magnet. We entered through the front door, so it took a while for my dad to figure out the new keys to the lock. Finally, in what seemed like 10 minutes, my dad finally got the door to open and a cool breeze of the sent 'new house' entered my nostrils.