One small step

Life Plans

Have you ever just sat down and wondered about the impossible questions of life? Like, if you try to fail, but you succeed, what have you actually done? Or why God had his idea of putting your life the way it is?

I'd been hearing the same sentence over and over again since the funeral.

'Everything happens for a reason, God has a plan'

God's plan. I'd always believed in 'God's plan', but that was before 'God's plan' had effected me in the way that it had just done. You never really know what you have until it's gone.

I'm sorry, excuse my manners, I haven't exactly been thinking as clearly as I would have done normally. Here's me, wanting to tell you my life story, and you don't even know my name.

It's Cassie. Cassie Daniels. 18 years old, college student. Mother from Zimbabwe, father from America. Two younger brothers, one older. Anything I haven't told you, frankly, just isn't important.

I suppose, for any of this to make any sense to you, I probably should go back to the beginning.

Well, not the very beginning, I fail to see how the details of my mothers pregnancy or how i was so cute in the bathtub at the age of 5 is going to tell you anything you need to know about my life, but maybe if I start from the age of 15. yes, I suppose that's best. The age of 15 was when, after just getting home from school, my mother said two words to me. Just two words that altered my life quite drastically, as I'm sure they would anyone.

'We're moving'

Although, I suppose it's fair to admit, she didn't really need to tell me. I did get a rather large clue from the 2 large moving trucks parked outside our house, and then an even bigger one from the men entering and exiting our house with our furniture. As stupid as certain Americans can be, I'm sure that robbing a gated community house in broad daylight is really far-fetched for even the dumbest of them all.

So there we have it. Without even being given the chance to say goodbye to any of the friends that I had made throughout the 15 years of my life living in Beverly Hills, California, I was being whisked into a car by an overly mother who was jabbering on and on about the new life she had planned for us. In England.

England.

England.

An eight hour plane ride, across the Atlantic to be moving to another country, when I had only left America once, to visit my family in Zimbabwe.

I can't say I took the news lightly. My mother was not a candidate for a debate, her belief was there was no such thing as being too old for a beating, so I went to my father. We'd always been the best of friends, but after that conversation, I began to question that.

So, iPod in, phone out, we began our drive to the airport. Saying goodbye to the sunshine and heat of California, we boarded our plane, and that was that. God's plan had just begun.