It Began at the Ocean

IBATO - part 2

"Okay, her medication is on the counter, her food plan is on the fridge, and make sure she eats at least two things each meal. Her snacks are in the pantry on the bottom shelf. Just make sure you dont give her any of my snacks because she gets really stressed when facing foods she isn't used to. If she refuses to eat anything, call me. I will handle it. My number is on the counter by her medication. Call me if you need me, okay?" I explain in full detail my mothers needs. I look at my mama and smile a worried smile, feeling weary about leaving her. Maybe I shouldn't go through with this. "You know, maybe this isn't such a good id-"

"No, no, no. You're going. We will be fine, sweetheart. I will call any time I need you." My aunt Maisy said, squeezing my arms gently.

I give her a thankful smile and give her a hug, saying goodbye. I turn to my mom, willing myself to say goodbye to her."Its alright, love. Im going to be okay," She reassures me. I hold back my tears slightly, knowing she will see them anyways.She has always been able to see through my facades of being the "I Know What Im Doing" person. Before she was sick she could tell when things were off, and thats one of the things that carried with her through her sickness. Im grateful for that.

"I love you, mama. Be good." I told her with a hug."Never," she said with a mischievous smile. "I love you too, sweetheart."With a salute to Aunt Maisy and my mother, I jumped in my cab and was off to the airport.

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I think the worst part of the airport is the anxiety of having to go through security, knowing you're clean and dont have a bomb or something, but feeling like you're going to get caught for something anyways. Thats the worst part for me, anyways.Getting through that was the easy part, I realize. Now I have a five hour flight to Florida from Oregon. How utterly exciting.

As I walk through the little tunnel onto the plane, I scan the long rows of seats, going through the plane, searching for my seat. 22A.I find it near the back, and thanks to my luck and charms, I ended up next to a fairly attractive guy. "This is going to be fun." I whisper under my breath.

His head whips up, and he gives me a slight frown, his brow furrowed and his lip in a slight pout. "What did you say?" He asked, and I was surprised he even heard me. I was barely audible. "Oh, uhm. I said this is my seat, right there. Next to the window," I said, pointing to the seat two away from him, the middle seat empty.

I hear him say something like "oh" and I continue to attempt to get my suitcase in the overhead compartment. I shove as hard as I can, but it becomes very very clear to me that I am completely and utterly weak and need to hit the gym every once in awhile. I mean, fuck, I need to get some muscle.

As I continue to shove as hard as I can, I can see I'm the only one not seated and I begin to feel my anxiety working its way up my body as I feel the stares. I scrunch my eyes closed and begin to feel myself paralyze. As I start counting, calming myself down, I feel a pair of hands take the suitcase and put it into the overhead compartment. "Are you alright?" I feel someone whisper near my ear.

I look up to find my flight buddy standing there with a slightly worried expression on his face. I clear my throat, " Yeah. Yeah, no, I'm good. Thank you so much."

He just smiles and lets me in to sit, then sits himself. This flight is going to be painful and slow, I can already tell.

I rummage through my bag to find the sleeping pills I bought at one of the in-airport stores.

I take the pills with my water that I also bought from there, thinking about how I dont have much of an idea where my 12 dollars for a water and sleeping pills went.

"Heres to capitalism," I whisper to myself, taking another drink.

I hear a small chuckle coming from the seat next to me, and look at him reading his magazine. He looks at me and I look away quickly, hoping he didn't see me staring. Especially since I probably looked insane trying to see if he was laughing at me. He couldn't have possibly even heard me. Im definitely going some sort of insane.I look out the window and feel myself slipping into a deep and anxiety-ridden sleep, thinking about the boy and my insanity.