When In Cuba H.S.

Grey - 1

The night before the flight I didn't sleep. That wasn't strange for me though. I averaged four to five hours a night on a regular basis so the two hours I got that night , while not ideal, would suffice. The familiar feeling of excitement mixed with apprehension returned the moment my alarm sounded. I swear the sinking feeling outweighed the leap of elation in my chest.

I turned my head to the side in acknowledgment of the light and sound blasting from my phone. With a release of breath from my nose I rolled to my side and glared at the device with the one eye that wasn't completely distorted by the pressure of my pillow. I willed it to shut off and for the clock to roll back to the night before so that I could have more time to avoid movement. I had looked at it for so long that when I realized the light was no longer on and the music was no longer blaring I thought it might have worked. The sound of feet treading on the floorboards outside my door broke not only my concentration, but also my hopes that is was six hours prior.

"Lina, are you awake? I don't want to be in a rush to get there," Aiden's voice was quiet yet firm in an attempt to rouse me from my nonexistent slumber. This was a major role reversal. Sure when I was in elementary school I sometimes struggled with getting up in the mornings but, Aiden? She was the queen of oversleeping. So much so that she had done it purposely on a number of occasions and simply hadn't cared about the consequences.

"Yes." "What? Are you up?" "Yes." "I can't hear you, hello?" "Yes," I had to shout the last one because her ears had been in a constant state of clogged since she was a child. She could somehow always hear her name in the softest whisper from across the house though. So who knew?

"Oh, ok, just making sure." I didn't hear her walk away so I figured she was waiting for something. "What Aiden?" I could almost feel her breathing down my neck through the wooden door. "Nothing just... We are going to have a good trip ok? I am excited for us and umm, I think this will be good for you. Well for us both." I said nothing in response, just continued to stare a hole into the wall opposite the door and my sister. I assume she must have gotten tired of waiting for a reply because I soon heard her steps shuffle away. If she had given up on me for now then I suspected it was time for me to get going.

Turning on the lights was always the hardest part for me in the mornings, but it made the rest of the process less challenging. The brightness made it difficult to see for the first few seconds. I stared at myself in the mirror and then looked to the shower and back again. I almost decided against it until I remembered where I was going. All of the horror stories my mother told me that she read about online; People promised high pressure, hot water and receiving a tepid trickle at best. A shower was definitely necessary.

I appreciated the burning sensation brought on by the water on my back and shoulders. I leaned my head under the spray to drench my unruly curls. They were impossible to manage when dry and slept on.

I was nervous. Very nervous. I knew there would be limited access to the internet, a place that I often escaped to. I suppose I had baking, but money and food could hardly be wasted on stress relief. So I would be left with art.

I used to draw as a child. I had about a million old sketch books at home. All filled to the brim with half completed "masterpieces," that I just knew would end up in a book or television special about my life one day. They would caption them in books with the approximate age I was when I gave life to a particular work. A voiceover would drone on about the promise I showed at the mere age of 7 or 8.

As I grew older and life became more hectic. I swapped out pencils and paintbrushes for textbooks and TI 84s. I stopped finding joy in it. I stopped finding joy in most things if I am honest. Maybe this would be an opportunity to rekindle my romance with creativity and happiness; spend some time on me.

The shower began to run cold just as the fire within my heart started to burn again. While it was a welcome change, it still made my eyes prickle with tears. The familiar tingle in my nose was a signal to focus on more essential tasks for the remainder of the morning.

Aiden was standing at the kitchen counter when I reached the bottom of the staircase, "Ready?" She looked comfortable yet still managed to appear put together. I, on the other hand, looked tired and slightly disheveled. "Yeah, let me just grab an apple and we can head out," I spoke barely above a whisper. I heard the sigh that escaped her lips. I'm not sure if she was aware of it, but I knew it was a sigh of frustration. I convinced myself that I was only saving my energy for the month that awaited me, but I knew better deep down. I just wasn't ready to be who I once was, not yet.

That's Chapter One everybody! Thanks again to anyone that is reading. Sorry it took so long for this chapter. I hope you like it. Leave me a comment if you do! A vote would be cool too but you do you haha