The Outcasts

Flying High

It's 3pm now and I've managed to print out my tickets and get a taxi ride to the airport.

I can't believe this is happening. It feels surreal and some what unrealistic that this happened so fast. But maybe not soon enough.

I'm waiting in the line in the airport to show my plane tickets, passport and to send my luggage away.
I feel like I have almost gone from being a seventeen year old who was helping her mother drink vodka, to a thirty year old moving to the 'big apple'.

As I'm called up to the desk I drop my tickets and passport on the floor and blush as I hand them to the lady. I'm so nervous I can't even hold a piece of paper. How am I going to survive in New York?

The lady checks my passport and reminds me which gate I have to be at and at what time. Then, I send my luggage away and walk towards the vending machine to get a can of lemonade.

I don't even know what to do with myself. Do I walk around nonchalantly? Or do I sit down somewhere and read books or listen to music like everyone else? My flight leaves at 6pm and the gate is nowhere near ready for my flight.

I decide to wander around for a bit, pop into some shops and maybe buy a magazine or two. My friends always told me about how much cheaper the makeup was in the airport, but I guess makeup was never really a big obsession of mine.

As I walk in and out of different shops, I see families laughing together, some fathers lifting their children up and down pretending they're on a plane, and some families are so tired from waiting, they are falling asleep on eachother. It reminds me about the great childhood I could have had, but didn't.

~~~

It's nearly six now and for the past half hour I was reading a magazine by the gate on 'how to shape your eyebrows the right way' and '24 things you're doing wrong' , while having to listen to two kids ranting on about some guy in Paw Patrol.

Everyone starts to line up and that's when I start to realise how this is actually happening. That in a few moment I'll be boarding a plane and I'll be landing across the world. The sad thing is, I don't even think my mother would care. She would probably say 'good riddance'.

When the air hostess lets us through the gate, I start walking up the tiny steps and board the plane and start looking for my seat 'row D, seat no. 13'

I sat next to the window and waited for the safety demonstration, which I hope won't be needed.

A middle aged lady with the brightest red hair I have ever seen, sat next to her husband and immediately got into their napping position.

After the air hostess finishes the demonstration, we get ready to take off.

At first it was a bit rocky, and as we got higher, I felt the pressure in the air and my ears were blocked. Kindly, the lady sitting next to me, called Rose (which indeed matched her appearance), passed me a piece of chewing gum to ease the earache.

I had such an amazing view by the window, it was a bit daunting that I was up in the sky but it almost felt magical.

We flew over the bright blue oceans, I could see everything from people's houses to the forests, from farms to rivers. It was stunning.

The flight was around seven hours and surprisingly I didn't think about my mother until now.

I finally arrived at my dream destination m New York.

Thoughts suddenly come rushing through my head.
Does my mother know that I'm gone? Are the police looknig for me? What will my social carer do?
I left no evidence behind, I would hope noone will track me.

I walk down the tiny steps and nervously make my way to the the terminal.

The place is extremely crowded, it was like there were almost hundreds of people waiting to collect their luggage.

At the other side of the airport, I see families reuniting, couples getting emotional and kids running around the place. It is hectic.

I have no idea where I am going so I decide to follow the people who were on my flight and wait.

After around fifteen minutes of waiting, I see my suitcase and hurry towards it. It was heavy, but I tried to lift it up and place it on the ground without looking like I struggled.

I had noone to greet at the other side of the airport, and no definite plan either. Basically, I was winging it.

I make my way to the exit and take one last look behind me. I made it. I really made it.