Weightless

f o u r

Jisu

        I wipe the thin sheen of sweat off my forehead. Looking around at all the boxes, I can't help but feel a rush of excitement. This is real.

        It's been two days since my declaration, and I've spent every waking moment preparing for my new start. After breakfast that day, I purchased my one way ticket to Incheon International Airport and submitted an offer for a cute, little apartment in Seongnam. I also begin the arduous task of packing, which leads me to my current predicament.

        With seven plushies lined up in front of my feet, I can't help but kick myself for owning so much stuff.

        "Jisu, you are seriously a hoarder. I mean come on, seven plushies. What were you even thinking? You are twenty-one years old." I look back down. Tousling my hair, I groan and fall back onto my bed.

        "Hon, are you talking to yourself again?"

        I don't even bother to respond. Instead I just shoot my father a look. He holds his hands up defensively and grins. 

        "Just concerned. The last thing we need is for you to be carted off to some insane asylum." 

        Eyeing the pillow on my bed, I debate how effective of a projectile it would be. "And by the way, I'd pick the frog one. Leave the rest."

        Pillow forgotten, I consider his advice. "Yeah. Wemmett my favorite anyways. Thanks."

        I watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion--most likely due to the strange name--but any questions he might have aren't voiced.  

        "No problemo kiddo... you're making good progress. Just don't forget to eat, alright? You're already tiny as it is. People might mistake you for a bug." 

        Still laying down, I flip him a two fingered salute. I hear him laugh as he shuts my door.

        I drop my arms with a thud and reach for my phone. The pounding rhythm of "I'll Make a Man Out of You" begins playing from the bluetooth speaker on my nightstand. Okay Jisu. Let's get down to business. Super motivated packing montage is a go.

~ ~ ~

        I open the car door and breathe in the sweet smell of... exhaust fumes. Let me tell you, the airport is a nasty place. Just think about it. A whole bunch of people, some sleep deprived, some unshowered, many anxious to leave, all crammed into the same area. 

        And don't even get me started on the amount of vehicles. I'm pretty sure my lungs would suffer less if I stood next to a burning fire while mouth-breathing. With this in mind, I pull my face mask up a little higher and grab my backpack from my father.

        Shouldering the bag, I rush inside, my parents following behind. Thankfully the airport isn't too crowded--the only perk of having a five a.m. flight--and my lack of luggage makes weaving between people fairly easy. 

        I make my way towards TSA. For the most part, it's pretty barren with only one line open. I turn back towards the direction I came from, searching for my parents who I lost on the way over. I can see my mother's tears from here. Ah geez.

        Pulling her into a hug, I pat her back gently. "Mom, I thought you said you weren't going to cry."

        I hear her sniffle. "I can't help it. My baby is growing up and moving on. Of course I'm going to get emotional."