Chapter two
The plane ride was long and boring. I've never been so bored before in my whole life. People were talking and I told them to shut up, but they didn't listen. The flight attendant bitch told me I needed to calm down.
Fuck her.
I didn't have any bags to collect so I cautiously walked around the airport. I wasn't sure where I was going, but it was noisy. Everyone around me was chatting and hugging and being annoying. All the noise was giving me a headache. I took deep breaths in attempt to not start panicking. However, that didn't help. My breathing quickened and I became dizzy. The room was spinning. Why was the room spinning?
I dropped my bags and covered my ears.
"Stop, stop." I repeated to myself. "Please stop."
It didn't stop though. Everyone was looking at me. I hated to be watched.
"Stop looking at me!" I yelled, but this just caused more eyes to fall onto me.
I closed my eyes shut and squeezed them tight.
"Alaska Young?" A soft voice spoke. "Honey, are you ok?"
I fluttered my eyes open and removed my hands from the side of my head. The woman in front of me was short, possibly shorter than me, and had short black hair that came to her shoulders. Her skin was olive and her eyes were a dark brown, sort of like my fathers. The nose on her was pinched and looked like a rat. The voices in my head started to laugh at her appearance.
"Shut up!" I scolded them.
"Pardon?" She spoke.
"Oh, not you." I said. "I wasn't talking to you."
She pursed her lips. "You're Alaska Young?"
"Last time I checked, yeah."
"I'm Karen. I work at the asylum you'll be staying at. If you would just follow me, I'll show you to the car."
"Your accent is funny." I told her.
"Yes," she said. "It's Australian."
She led me to a black car that looked more like a police car than a regular car. The back seats were caged in with a bar and there were no seat belts. I laughed.
Regardless of the appearance, I sat in the car. My leg was bouncing fast and I played with my fingers to pass time.
Looking out the window, it surprisingly didn't look much different than home. There were houses, stores, and other things familiar to America.
I got this rush inside my stomach and I couldn't help but feel like I was close to something and that I was meant to be here.
I watched the winding roads as we traveled towards the destination in which I would be staying. I wasn't excited to stay in a loony bin, but anything is better than being with my parents. They don't understand me. They don't understand anything.
The past few years people have looked at me differently. I have this reputation of being crazy. Crazy? I'm the opposite of that. I usually don't care what people think, but being called crazy really gets me ticked off. Just because I think and act differently than the majority of the world doesn't mean I'm psycho, it just means I'm original.
I picked at my nails until they were down to little to nothing. My mother always told me I should keep my nails on point, but I was never really into that girly shit.
"You're gonna love it here," Karen said, interrupting my silence. "the workers there are very kind and warming. We'll help you get better, Alaska. Don't you worry."
