Tripping

A Lot of Waiting and Weather that Reflects My Mood

DISCLAIMER:

Recently, I was lucky enough to travel to Europe on summer vacation and at such a place full of history and literature, how is one not inspired to write?

Although I have taken some personal experiences and incorporated them into the story, this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. 

Also, this is not a factual book and although many of the famous places described in the story are real and at their accurate place, not all information may be entirely accurate, which I apologize for, but it's all to help to story carry on.

If you would like to create a cover, trailer, pictures, etc. for my story it'd be awesome! But please contact me first. Otherwise, please don't use my characters, events, stories, specific locations, etc. etc. etc. without my consent. Thank you and I hope you like my work!

Copyright © 2014 by fictophilia

Dedicated to Lamia @rememberthismoment for inspiring me with her annoyingness.

I see him standing there on the other side of the street. His dark eyes burn into mine, filled with longing. He missed me all this time.

I start running, my legs ignoring the constant protests from my brain. His angelic face breaks into a smile as I come closer towards him, through the traffic, ignoring the honks and shouts from impatient drivers. He’s moving in my direction now so we would be together faster. I spread my arms, ready to feel his embrace when-

BAM! My head hits the screen on the seat in front of me, waking me up.

I’m on a plane.

My sister just hit me with a Duty Free magazine.

We are about to land in London, England.

* * *

I'm sorry if you thought that experience was real. Trust me, I’m sorry too.

I’m Rosella Dawn Brightly, expert in all things fictional, professional-level milkshake maker and avid Nutella fan. 

Despite my name, I’m not all that upbeat and positive or maybe I am since everyone thinks so. I’ve learned people are often in denial of their self-qualities no matter how obvious they may seem to others.

For example, my fourteen-year-old sister Leyla is a brat for hitting me with a Duty Free magazine but she considers that as “smart” and “helpful”.

“Are you serious, dude?” I groan, rubbing my forehead.

“The flight attendant said to wake you up,” Ley says matter-of-factly continuing to play 2048 on her Ipad. 

“Not by giving me a concussion, idiot.”

“You can always sue the airline now stop fighting.” My dad cuts in. I honestly don’t know if he’s joking or not. He’s so business orientated-to him, money rules the world. My mom’s more on the softer side, watching Safe Haven right now on the tiny screen on the seat in front of her, but she’s logical enough to know money is important.

But I won’t have a long discussion on being materialistic (since I’ve given a lot of lectures on that before even though no one seems to care). Anyways, I’m eighteen years old and yes, I’m travelling with my family.