Tangled Dreams

CHAPTER 1: THE DILEMMA OF DREAMS (Part 1) | Eunice Wong

Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA). I had promised myself that I would never set foot in here. Never had and never would. Regardless of who came or went, I would only drop off or pick up anyone at the designated entrances. Not once had I walked through the main glass doors that demarcated the world of flight and my world.

Yet here I was. After a tiring chase from one location to another on buses and express trains, I was finally here. There was no need to step through the main glass doors, as exiting the KLIA express train platform spat me out directly into the KLIA building complex. Nevertheless, I could not believe it. I was now on the cusp of a dilemma between my dreams and his.

I stood in the middle of the departure hall contemplating the flight tickets that I was holding. AirAsia, Emirates or Tiger Airways? Dubai, Australia or London? As someone who had never left their beloved country, where should I go?

My mind was confused and muddled. I looked up at the Flight Information Display Screen in front of me, hoping that it would give me guidance. Maybe it might change into a compass capable of showing the route that I should choose. Other travellers were busy hauling their baggage to their check-in counters. Some clasped boarding passes and strode with purpose and confidence. Some appeared rushing towards their destinations. Only I seemed lost and directionless, without a life compass. Only I was alone.

The Flight Information Display Screen indicated that an Emirates flight to Dubai would be departing in the next hour. That was the earliest departure flight amongst the other choices available in my hands. I folded the other tickets and put them in the back pocket of my blue jeans as I walked towards the check-in counter to obtain my boarding pass. I had to show the officer the boarding pass to Dubai before I was allowed past the main departure gates.

The escalator that I was on brought me to Passport Control where a row of counters was waiting. An officer looked at my red passport and showed me the way to the automated immigration counters specially prepared for Malaysian passport holders. My hands trembled as I walked towards a counter. This was the first time I was going through the process. My heart pounded rapidly.

The counter's flapper gates opened automatically. I stepped in and the two flappers closed behind me, trapping me within the capsule. I looked at the screen located on the right side of the capsule. There were instructions that I followed accordingly. I placed my red passport on top of the scanner. Moments later, I was asked to verify my identity with my fingerprints. Shortly after, the exit flapper gates opposite the entrance opened. Hurriedly, I stepped out.

A few seconds later, I heard the voice of the same officer calling me. I was stunned, breathless. My heart skipped a beat. Had they found me? So quickly? I heard footsteps closing in. I gulped. I was on edge.

"Miss... Miss, you left your passport behind on the scanner just now," explained the officer as she tapped my shoulder. I drew a deep breath of relief before turning around to face her with a deliberate sweet smile. I took the passport that she held out and thanked her before I strode away with a sigh of relief.

Thinking that was the only obstacle in my way, a customs security check loomed next. It was obvious that I knew nothing about the protocols of being a traveller. Noticing the customs officer's serious demeanour and his smart, dark-blue uniform, my heart thumped faster again.

My turn arrived. The duty officer held out a red plastic tray. I took it and followed the instructions given. My shoulder bag went into the scanner machine. Then I took out every object from my jeans pockets. When my finger touched pieces of paper, I stopped for a moment. My mind scrambled to figure out the next move.

An instant later, I took out the tickets that I had folded up earlier and slipped them into my wallet before depositing it on the plastic tray. I hoped they would not scrutinize every item with a fine tooth comb. It would not have been possible for me to explain why I had tickets for several flights departing on the same day. Soon I had to step through the metal detector security archway.

Beep beep beep!

Argh! What now?

An officer approached me. She requested that I raise both arms before proceeding with a body search. Her hands touched my shoulders, chest, waist and legs. My heartbeat increased with every second.

"Please remove your belt," she instructed after completing the body search. I quickly removed my belt and placed it on the tray. I was then asked to go through the security archway again. Thank God, this time it did not emit any sounds.

I put on my belt again and put all the items on the tray back into my pockets. I threw the shoulder bag over my shoulder before I scuttled away. My anxiety evaporated with every step that took me further away from the security area. It was pretty stressful leaving the country by air. So many protocols needed to be followed!

I followed the other passengers taking the train towards the pre-allocated terminal. At the entrance, I managed to stop at a rubbish bin beside a row of chairs. I took out the extra tickets from my wallet. After a final glance, my hands quickly tore them into shreds and threw them into the rubbish bin. My decision had been made. I must not look back.

I boarded the awaiting Emirates plane.