I've Found You

Chapter 2

After packing for what literally seemed like hours (and probably was…I lost track of time after I’d tucked away just my jeans collection alone) I managed to zip up my overflowing suitcase as I took a long look around my room, checking to see if I’d forgotten anything. Sure enough, my tattered and worn out stuffed bunny sat unpacked on my bed, its faded blue eyes staring questioningly at me, wondering if I was really going to leave her behind. I walked over to the bed and picked her up, running my fingers along the grooves of missing fur on her back.

“I would never forget you, Bunny!” I said to the stuffed animal.

In case you’re wondering, yes, my bunny is appropriately named Bunny. I got her for Christmas when I was two and at that point my naming skills weren’t exactly up to par. I gently tucked her away in one of the side pockets of my suitcase before pulling back my right red blankets and climbing into bed. The process of purchasing a plane ticket and then planning and packing my luggage had utterly exhausted me, and thankfully I fell into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

I woke up at 8am the next morning to the sound of my mother banging on my bedroom door. At first, I thought if I ignored her she might leave me alone so I could get back to my much needed beauty sleep, but that plan failed miserably. She continued knocking until I was forced up and out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stumbled to the door and flicked the lock so she could come in.

“Good morning, honey, I see you’re off to an enthusiastic start today.” She said with a bit of a laugh.

I just snorted in response, still half asleep. I’m not exactly a morning person, if it isn’t obvious already.

“Well anyways, I just wanted to say good bye before your father and I leave for Costa Rica! I left a few emergency phone numbers on the fridge in case you need them.”

“Yeah, okay thanks mom. Have fun.” I replied, not even bothering to tell her about my own plans. Knowing my mom and dad they’d extend their vacation by another month and I’d be home long before them, so there wasn’t even a point in bringing it up. They wouldn’t call to check on me either.

“Alright, well stay safe and don’t throw a party this time, okay?”

“No worries mom, I won’t.”

Last time they’d gone away I’d taken it upon myself to throw a massive party that involved underage drinking, sex, marijuana, the whole works. It was great. However, that summer my parents decided to come home a week early and discovered the remaining damage from my celebration…they weren’t happy, to say the least.

As I pondered over the memories (or lack thereof) from that night with a bit of a smirk on my face, my mom kissed me on the forehead, gave me another “be good” warning, and walked out of my room, down the stairs, and to the car where my dad was waiting for her. I watched out the window as they drove away, leaving me alone to prepare for my trip. I grabbed a few things and put them in my carry on before calling for a cab to take me to the airport. It was only 8:30 at this point, but I figured I might as well be early for my flight.

As I waited for the cab to arrive, I walked around my house locking every possible window and door I could think of. I really was going to miss the comfort of my home during the next few months, but my excitement for living in a completely foreign city overruled that entirely. So far, my plan once I arrived in Melbourne consisted of finding an apartment I could rent for the duration of my stay, stocking the fridge, and going furniture shopping for the bare essentials. You might be wondering how a 17 year old girl could possibly afford all of this on such short notice. Well, my bank card is linked directly to my parents’ savings account and I guess you could say my parents are very well off financially. This isn’t a fact I like to flaunt around a lot, but it does come in handy from time to time.

I glanced out the front window and saw the cab driver standing attentively by the rear end of his car, trunk open and ready. I grabbed my massive suitcase from its place by the door and hauled it outside, where the driver immediately rushed to take it from me, his strong hands lifting it almost effortlessly into the trunk. I thanked him and climbed into the back of the cab.

“Where to, miss?” he asked me.

“Toronto airport, please!”

He nodded at me in his rear view mirror and set off in the direction of the airport. I rested my head back against the soft leather of the seat and watched out the window as my house faded into the distance behind me. Closing my eyes, I imagined all the possibilities waiting for me overseas in Melbourne. Who would I meet? What would I do? What would I be able to say about myself when I returned? And finally, the question I most wanted to find the answer to, was there a place in this world I could truly fit in? My imagination wandered off in all directions as the driver kept a steady pace towards the airport.