The wind on Our backs

3- America

Rachel stepped off the plane, the cool evening air of America hitting her face as she pulled her suitcase along the terminal. She was dizzy, her head swimming slightly from the long flight, but she composed herself. This was it—America. She'd heard so much about this place, imagined the people, the streets, the food, but now it was real. The signs, the accents—everything felt slightly off despite her knowing English well enough. The way the airport staff spoke threw her off guard. Even though she had heard American accents back in Singapore, hearing them all around her, constantly, felt almost foreign in a way she hadn't anticipated.

It was nearly nightfall by the time she made her way through customs and stepped outside to find a taxi. The bright airport lights buzzed in the fading daylight, casting long shadows. She was exhausted from the hours in the air, but she kept herself together, knowing that she was only a short ride away from the house that her parents had rented for her. She hailed a cab, her heavy suitcase dragging behind her, and gave the driver the address in a voice she tried to keep steady.

As the cab drove thigh the unfamiliar streets, Rachel's head began to nod. The hum of the engine and the steady motion of the car lulled her into a drowsy state, and she fought hard to keep her eyes open. She didn't want to fall asleep just yet but her body had other ideas. Every few minutes, her head would bog down, only for her to jerk herself back upright, trying to take in the passing scenery through the window. The streets were lined with trees and small shops, nothing too flashy or overwhelming, but it felt all too different from home. The buildings looked unfamiliar, the roads seemed wider, and the air felt cooler, crisper than what she was used to in Singapore

Finally, the taxi pulled up into t of a small, well-kept house. Rachel blinked herself fully awake, handing over the fare before stepping out into the cool evening air. She stood there for a moment, looking at the house. It was modest but cozy, with a small garden out front. She stared at the door, feeling a pang of nervousness creep into her chest. This was her new home, for a whole year at least. She shook off the feeling and pulled her suitcase up the steps and unlocked the door.

The house greeted her with a quiet, welcoming warmth. Everything was in order, just as her parents had assured her it would be. The furniture was simple but comfortable and the wooden floors polished and clean. In Singaporean, or in most Asian households, taking off shoes before entering the house was a must. Here though, she wasn't sure what the norm was. After a moment of indecision, she kicked off her shoes and placed them neatly by the door, deciding to follow her own habits for now

Rachel wandered through the house, her footsteps light on the floor. The kitchen was small but tidy with everything she needed in place. She ran her fingers along the counter, feeling the smooth surface. The living room had a soft, beige couch that looked inviting after her long journey. There was a simple coffee table in front of it, a lamp in the corner, a few decorative pieces left behind by the previous owner. Everything seemed so perfect prepared for her arrival, as though the house was waiting for her to fill its empty spaces.

She placed her suitcase near the couch and sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. The quiet of the house surrounded her, and for a moment, it felt almost too silent. Back home, there would always be the sound of her parents talking, the faint clatter of dishes or the hum of the city outside. Here,it was just stillness. Rachel let out a small sigh, her body feeling heavier by the second.

A low grumble from her stomach reminded her that she eaten since the flight, and she knew she should find something to eat but her exhaustion was catching up with her fast. She thought about getting up to check the kitchen for something simple, but instead, she leaned back into the cushions just for minute to rest her eyes.

Her eyelids grew heavier as she allowed herself to sink deeper into the couch. The weight of the long flight, the jet lag, and the overwhelming newness of everything was too much. Before she could stop herself, her thoughts blurred, and the house with all its newness and unfamiliarity, faded into the background, Her breathing slowed, her mind drifted, and within minutes, Rachel was fast asleep. The soft hum of the house lulling her into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.