Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful young maiden who dreamed of the day her Prince Charming would come and sweep her off her feet. He would kiss her, love her, and give her a life of luxury and royalty. She would willingly accept him and his lifestyle with open arms. Together, with happiness and harmony, they would live happily ever after . . . right?
Wrong.
* * *
When I was a little girl, my father would read to me every night from his old story book with the gold pleated pages, silk bookmark, and leather cover. Each story featured a prince, a princess, and a happy ending - a fairytale. Although we were neither rich nor wealthy, my father was a king and I was his princess.
The day my father died of leukemia was the day my fairytale came to an end. When the light left his eyes, the light in my life left as well. Cold, hard, bitter reality replaced the warm haven my father had created in my mind. I could no longer live in the comforting land of fantasy. In the real world, far-fetched dreams and happy endings did not exist.
As a mere, naive nine-year-old, this inconvenient truth of the world was hard to accept, but it made me stronger. Now, nine years later, I'm glad to have started six feet underground instead of later falling off Cloud 9.
The day after I graduated high school I packed my bags, my well-saved money, my deferred college acceptance letter, and left. I wrote my mother a simple 'Gone Fishing' note instead of a touching, tear-jerking goodbye letter. I wasn't concerned about breaking her heart or sparing her feelings. Ever since she met Matthew two years ago, I questioned how much she actually cared for me. When they first started dating, I didn't take it personally. My mother was the absent-minded kind, and I only thought of her as distracted. But when she chose a date with her boyfriend over my graduation, I drew the line.
I was eighteen now and going to be perfectly fine on my own. I had no plans, no direction, and no limits. Just a wad of cash, a backpack with as much as I could carry, and the world at my fingertips. For the first time since my father died, I felt free.
"JFK Airport please," I requested, as I slid across the backseat of the taxi.
The old driver nodded, as car engine came to life. He drove us into the path of the continuous, warm, afternoon sunset. I watched as the places, the world, and the life I knew drifted by.
The taxi driver left me off at the international terminal. I paid my fare, and entered the terminal that held my future. High ceilings and marbled floors echoed every sound I made. The flat screens hung in clusters on the walls, flickering before my eyes. After waiting in line for the airport check-in, I approached the service counter where I was greeted by a very peppy employee. Her uniform and collared shirt were pressed to a finish. She looked way too overdone, with her bold make up, long bright fingernails, and voluminous hair style.
"Hi there!" Her overly cheerful tone and smile made me want to gag. "How may I help you on this fine, wonderful day?"
"Yeah, I need a one way ticket," I grumbled, pulling out my wad of cash. It looked like a lot now, but I knew that this plane ticket would take a good chunk out of it.
She started to loudly type away on her keyboard, and smacked her crimson painted lips. "Where would you like to go, Miss?"
"Anywhere," I muttered. "Far far away from here."
She pulled out a slip of paper and began writing down countries and prices. "Well, we've got a few wonderful international locations: Germany, Spain, France, Italy, Japan, Thailand . . ."
I shook my head as I looked at the prices. All of these world famous tourist locations were far too expensive for my taste . . . and budget. Besides, I needed to be somewhere where nobody would think to look for me.
