When the plane landed, I was all but jumping out of my seat. The woman seated beside me, mid 20's and beautiful to a fault, was staring at me like I had grown into a hideous beast right before her eyes. I smiled at her as if to say 'I'm normal, no worries'. In reality, starting a new life was the most exciting thing I could've ever done; getting a fresh start was all I really wanted.
"Flight 23A is boarding now," a woman stated over the loud speaker of the airport. I barely heard her over the sound of my own heart beating so quickly. New place, new job, new start. I kept repeating this to myself over and over again as if I'd forgotten that I'd left everything I've ever known when I got on the plane in Pennsylvania.
New York was so much different than my small town home. For one, we weren't surrounded by corn fields and barns which had been forgotten at least a decade ago. The city was alive and it was as if it fueled me in my excitement. I never wanted to leave here and honestly, I would never be able to bring myself to do so. In the 10 minutes I'd been there, searching for my luggage while simultaneously shoving my laptop case strap back on my shoulder. Under ordinary conditions, I would've been extremely irritated with the whole effort, but these were no ordinary conditions and the whole effort was, to me, worth every difficult thing I'd encounter.
Finding my bags, I made my way out of the terminal into the fresh air: as fresh as air can get in a city, anyways. The sunlight felt warm on my skin and I'd just realized I had goosebumps over my arms. I took in the scenery around me, watching everything from a chipmunk by one of the tables looking for food to the sounds of people in rush hour traffic: honking, yelling things at each other. I slid on my gray Van sweatshirt as I signaled a taxi. I put all my things, except my laptop case and phone, into the trunk and climbed into the car. It reeked of cigarette smoke and sex, but I chalked it up to 'New York'.
"Where to?" a gravely voice asked me from the front of the vehicle.
I wanted to say the nearest hospital, but I didn't want to rush into my new life. Find the apartment first, then you can call the hospital. I didn't want to seem to eager to get on with my life, but it was so simple that it made me want to run towards it; arms wide open and willing it to me.
"Um," I say after I realized the taxi driver had commenced to stare at me, "36 West Brooke Street, please." I gave him my thank-you-for-being-so-patient smile. He nods his head, turns back around, and off we go. To my new home, or at least the place that I'll learn to call home.
Millions of sites passed me by and all my senses tingled with a wonderful sensation. To anyone who'd lived her or in a city for that matter, they'd think I was on acid or something by the way I was acting. Yet, if they went to my small town once they'd understand why I'm so fascinated by it all.
Everett, Pennsylvania: my home town with a population of 1,787 people. Every day would be the same; get up, get dressed, go to your boring job, and come home just to do it all again. Our definition of fun is when we have bonfires and basically get hammered and dance around a lot. Compared to home, New York is a whirl wind of color and things to do.
We stop in front of an old brick building. From where I sat, I could see chips in the bricks and a mixture of moss and wisteria growing up the side of it. There were also two different colors of bricks, suggesting that a portion of the building had been redone while the rest had a faded red brick, probably still the original exterior.
I got out and toted my backs out of the trunk. After I paid the driver, he drove off. Leaving me in front of a building I had hoped was the right one. After taking a deep breath, I grabbed all my luggage and headed towards the front door. I've got to start sometime.
I pushed open the front doors and got my breathe taken from me. The outside didn't give the building the credit it deserved. There was a smaller chandelier hanging in the lobby and the wall paper was an elegant floral print that gave off a confident vibe that I absolutely adored. There were P.O. boxes on one side and located on the other, an older solid oak desk. How was I able to get to lucky? I asked myself and I strolled up to the desk. A man, mid 40's with touches of gray in his hair looked up at me from his book and smiled a toothy grin. His name tag read Tanner and he smelled of some type of expensive cologne.
"Hello... Tanner," I say hesitantly towards the man, "I called a week ago and rented a room here." Tanner turned towards his computer, fingers ready on the keyboard, "Name?" He looks at me with a patient gaze and for once, I'm not scared or startled by New Yorkians.
"Charolette Rose," I whisper, looking down towards the floor. Old habits never cease to frustrate me. I look back at Tanner and stand up taller. If you want to be taken seriously, look like an adult I think, scolding myself.
"Ah, yes, Miss Rose. Your room number is 3C and here's your key. If you need anything, I'll be here." I nod towards the kind man and start towards the elevator, my heart racing with every step. After getting in, I hit the third floor and watch as the sliver doors slide closed, blocking my vision of Tanner and the lobby.
Ding! The elevator says, notifying me that I'd made it to my destination. I gather my 2 bags of luggage and head out of the elevator and to the right since it was the only way to go. I walk a little ways before I find it. An olive green door with gold lettering that read 3C. I've found it, the place I'll be calling home for, what I hope will be, a while. I place the key into to key hold found on the door knob and I turn it to the right until the knob turns with it. Taking a deep breathe, I open the door. The only words that escape my mouth are, "Wow."
Author's note:
I know, I'm sorry this update took so long. I wanted to finish it before Thanksgiving, but as you may have already guessed, I'm a terrible procrastinator. I hope you guys like this chapter. Comment what you think. All are welcome. Thanks loves
-Charlie.
