The Crown

Chapter Four - The Journey

My families sobs haunted me as I fell asleep on the jet. Their sobs wake me from my dreams.

They were all sad. All three of them. Kota couldn't come to see me off, but I know he was close by, watching as I boarded the private jet that was to send me to my new life. Clara was the least disappointed. She was thrilled that I was going to become a princess, just like she guessed. Her prediction might not be all true, though. I might not become royalty. I just have the chance.

I open my eyes and peek out the window. Clouds still float around the plane. Unlike in my Placement test, the sky is a brilliant blue.

          I sigh and lean my head back. Will I ever see my family again? Will I ever get the chance to tell them about the clouds that looked like pillow fluff, or the sky that put my blue eyes to shame? No one is allowed to write to family members after being Placed. Is it the same being Placed as Royalty? I wonder how different life will be like at the palace.

          A voice crackles over the loud speaker, "We will be landing in fifteen minutes. Please fasten your seatbelt and prepare for landing."

          My seatbelt is already clicked tightly around my waist so I decide to watch the landing from my seat by the window.

          After another few minutes, the clouds disperse and grass is revealed far down on the ground. The grass is greener than any other grass I've seen. Black pavement cuts through the grass. The plane is headed straight for the black strip as it descends quite quickly.

          As we get closer to landing, I see a sleek, shiny black car with tinted windows parked on the side of the runway.

          The landing is bumpy and rough but I hold on the my arm rests and hold my breath.

          Once the jet has safely landed, a woman comes down the aisle of the plane. She stops at my row and gives me a skeptical look.

          "Miss," she says in a trill voice. "We've landed. We must hurry to get you to the Makeover House so you are presentable."

          The way she says the word presentable I can tell she hasn't dealt with many teenage girls from Callyle. We're field workers, not Royalty.

          I hurry off the plane. The woman stays at the plane door and a man in dark sunglasses and a black suit meets me at the bottom of the jet's stairs. He leads me across the black runway, my bags in hand, to the car I noticed while on the plane. He opens one of the back doors and motions for me to step in, not saying a word.

          These people act so strangely, I think to myself as I climb into the dimly lit car.

          The man shuts my door and I can hear him as he shoves my bags in the trunk before walking around to sit in the drivers seat.

          I've never been in a car, or seen one in person, let alone actually being driven in one of the most fancy ones there is, I assume. I run my hand along the dark leather seats and glance at the softly curved ceiling.

          I barely notice we started moving until I look out the window and see the passing landscapes. The car runs so smoothly, movement is unnoticeable.

          The ride to the Makeover House is about twenty minutes. The whole time, I'm admiring the rolling hills. The beautiful grasses flowing in the wind, creating a wave of multiple shades of green. Spurts of purple and yellow pop up through the green every so often. The blue sky looks as if it never moves behind the ever changing scene.