Black Rose

48.

Majesty A. Turner

I sat near the window off to the side while waiting to board the plane. One leg was on top of the other as I watched planes land and take off from the strip. No matter how many times I've been on a plane I will always get slight anxiety before I get on. I can never find myself listening to Aaliyah the day before I board a plane. But this time I don't think I'm scared if a tragedy happens. Sighing, I noticed a plane coming to the terminal I've been waiting at for forty-five minutes. Only minutes later the early birds were called to line up. I hurried in line, desperate to leave this state. Once I was on the plane I wasted no time in sitting near the window and buckling up.

About thirty minutes later the plane was in the sky moving at a steady rate. Although I had music blasting through my earbuds, I paid it no attention. My mind wandered off to the look Ace gave me. Is he really related to Bryce or am I just delusional? As I think about it, Alex sometimes wear that same smirk. He's not related to neither of them. Maybe it's from being together so much...? Bryce is white and so is Ace, but I highly doubt they are related.

I came to the conclusion that I was completely delusional that night.

I avoided eye contact with everyone as I found my way to the pick up area. Dad offered to pick me up but I knew that would mean I would have to see Gina and meet their daughter sooner than I want to. How could they have a child to replace me? I haven't made the best choices, but I'm only human. Their new child is human too. She won't be Majesty 2.0.

As I went down the escalator my eyes locked on the man who held a sign with my maiden last name; Collins. I couldn't help but to chuckle a bit.

I greeted the man who then escorted me to the black Toyota car.

"Where're you coming in from?" He asked in hopes to spark up a conversation.

I wasn't in the mood for a conversation so I kept it simple. "New York."

"Really?" He chuckled. "Your accent seems... different."

"I'm originally from Denver." I mumbled. "Then moved to Rhode Island for a couple years before I graduated and went to school in The Big Apple."

"Ah," he nodded and glanced at me through the rearview mirror, "what music are you into?" His thick Italian accent made it slightly hard to understand. After turning the radio on he kept his hand hovering over it.

"Hot 106."

Once he found the station both of his hands rested on the steering wheel. I remained antisocial in the backseat while nodding to a throwback Kanye West song. Call me crazy or whatever, but I honestly do miss the old Kanye. He's such an asshole now and so conceited, I don't see how anyone can support him. After he met with Trump I was completely done. Especially since he thinks there's nothing wrong with it.

Brainwashing at its finest.

"Have a nice day ma'am." I'll try.

After paying the driver I swung the back door opened. "Thank you, you too."

He wasted no time in pulling off. Meanwhile, my feet stayed planted to the concrete that made up the large driveway. My eyes stared up at the large, white house. The house I told myself I'd never step foot into again. Yet, here I am, looking for some sort of closure and comfort.