Post by Rosalie Dresden on Jan 2, 2009 13:36:36 GMT -8
Uggh, I hate cars, especially the back seat. You can just never sit still. Your always bouncing around, especially in Ms. Crandell's 1968 Chevy Camaro. She says it's a classic, though I call it a piece of trash. It this ugly color green. She calls it Dark Sea Foam, but I just call it fresh puke. Ugg. It has these leather seats that stick to your skin, nearly ripping it off when you try to move. She had offered for me to sit in the front, though that was just so she could keep a better eye on me. She's like that you know? She's always watching me, worse then my foster mom. I swear.
"So are you excited?" her whiny voiced pierced through my thoughts.
"Yea, I guess." I replied, not bothering to put on the normally cheerful act that I played around her.
"You don't sound like it." she said, pointing out the obvious. Another special trait of hers.
"Well, it's not like I'm moving to a different house. I'm going to a different state."
"Just think of it as a new experience. You can write all about it. You have the journal I gave you?" She asked.
"Yea, it's in my bag." Truth was, I had no idea where it was. She gave it to me, and I just shoved it in my suitcase.
"Okay, good. You have my number, just in case you may need to call. Write all about your adventure here. You never know, it could be published and then you'd be a famous author, and it all started with a riding center." She ranted in the front seat. I just turned up my Ipod and mumbled a yea.
She went all quiet on me and I gloated in silent success. Smiling, I looked out the car window, watching the trees pass by. I stared at the dotted line for a while until my stomach started to heave. I sat back, closing my eyes, breathing slowly. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, reading the signs, just wondering how long... and then it showed up, Chicago O'Hare International Airport, Next Right. YES! I screamed in my head. I was so close to getting out of this place. Away from Ms. Crandell, my social worker, away from Betty, my foster mom. Away from all those annoying brats that dare call my sissy.
I sat up more straight for the next 20 miles to the airport. My heart was pounding with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get in there and leave this life behind me. ANYTHING would be better then this. Ms. Crandell pulled over in front of the curbside service. She got out, and ran around to my side of the car. As she opened my door, she had a great big smile spreading across her face. I tried to smile back politely but she was just to, well I don't know. She's just creepy to me. I climbed out of the low camaro, leaving the back of my legs on the seat. I hefted the large backpack onto my shoulder, and took a look around.
The place was huge, with hundreds of thousands of people running around, talking. There was a constant procession of vehicles that came and went. I waited as she took my luggage to the counter, and got my boarding passes. I was so glad that I was 15, when they asked how old I was. The minimum age limit for kids to be on their own was 14. That means no babysitters for me. YES! Another triumph. This day just keeps getting better.
The put my luggage on the conveyor belt as Ms. Crandell said her goodbyes. I just smiled and nodded my head. And then I was all alone. She went back to her car, and I just stood there. Silently, I heaved the backpack onto my shoulder again, and headed upstairs. There wasn't a long line through security, and I was quickly on the other side. As I walked towards the gate, I thought for the first time, where exactly was I going? Looking down at the ticket, it didn't say, so I couldn't look at the large, flat screen TVs, that told you the progress of your flight. Frightened, I hurried towards my gate, just making it in time. They had just started boarding rows 1- 5. I was 12, so it wasn't a big deal. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself, and headed into the long tunnel.
.:Time Skip:.
6 hours later, we landed. I was so sore, and had a pounding headache thanks to the little old lady I had sat by. Did you ever notice how old people smell different? Well, maybe it's just me. Many of the people that I had gotten off of the plane with moved on, catching other planes. I was the sole person that turned and headed towards the exit. I walked, out hoping to see someone I recognized, though that was stupid. There was an old frumpy man that held a sign that had my name on it. Frightened, I approached him. He introduced himself as David, and said that he was the taxi driver that will be taking me to Broadview Stables. Smiling, we both walked down to the luggage conveyor to collect my belongings.
Then I sat in the back of yet another car. The landscape all around us was constantly changing. Big cities, to wide desserts, to hilly mountains and dense forest. This really was a strange place, but it sent shiver's down my spine as I anticipated my arrival. I didn't have to wait much longer, because after about an hour, the cab slowed and pulled into a long driveway, revealing to me my new home....
"So are you excited?" her whiny voiced pierced through my thoughts.
"Yea, I guess." I replied, not bothering to put on the normally cheerful act that I played around her.
"You don't sound like it." she said, pointing out the obvious. Another special trait of hers.
"Well, it's not like I'm moving to a different house. I'm going to a different state."
"Just think of it as a new experience. You can write all about it. You have the journal I gave you?" She asked.
"Yea, it's in my bag." Truth was, I had no idea where it was. She gave it to me, and I just shoved it in my suitcase.
"Okay, good. You have my number, just in case you may need to call. Write all about your adventure here. You never know, it could be published and then you'd be a famous author, and it all started with a riding center." She ranted in the front seat. I just turned up my Ipod and mumbled a yea.
She went all quiet on me and I gloated in silent success. Smiling, I looked out the car window, watching the trees pass by. I stared at the dotted line for a while until my stomach started to heave. I sat back, closing my eyes, breathing slowly. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, reading the signs, just wondering how long... and then it showed up, Chicago O'Hare International Airport, Next Right. YES! I screamed in my head. I was so close to getting out of this place. Away from Ms. Crandell, my social worker, away from Betty, my foster mom. Away from all those annoying brats that dare call my sissy.
I sat up more straight for the next 20 miles to the airport. My heart was pounding with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get in there and leave this life behind me. ANYTHING would be better then this. Ms. Crandell pulled over in front of the curbside service. She got out, and ran around to my side of the car. As she opened my door, she had a great big smile spreading across her face. I tried to smile back politely but she was just to, well I don't know. She's just creepy to me. I climbed out of the low camaro, leaving the back of my legs on the seat. I hefted the large backpack onto my shoulder, and took a look around.
The place was huge, with hundreds of thousands of people running around, talking. There was a constant procession of vehicles that came and went. I waited as she took my luggage to the counter, and got my boarding passes. I was so glad that I was 15, when they asked how old I was. The minimum age limit for kids to be on their own was 14. That means no babysitters for me. YES! Another triumph. This day just keeps getting better.
The put my luggage on the conveyor belt as Ms. Crandell said her goodbyes. I just smiled and nodded my head. And then I was all alone. She went back to her car, and I just stood there. Silently, I heaved the backpack onto my shoulder again, and headed upstairs. There wasn't a long line through security, and I was quickly on the other side. As I walked towards the gate, I thought for the first time, where exactly was I going? Looking down at the ticket, it didn't say, so I couldn't look at the large, flat screen TVs, that told you the progress of your flight. Frightened, I hurried towards my gate, just making it in time. They had just started boarding rows 1- 5. I was 12, so it wasn't a big deal. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself, and headed into the long tunnel.
.:Time Skip:.
6 hours later, we landed. I was so sore, and had a pounding headache thanks to the little old lady I had sat by. Did you ever notice how old people smell different? Well, maybe it's just me. Many of the people that I had gotten off of the plane with moved on, catching other planes. I was the sole person that turned and headed towards the exit. I walked, out hoping to see someone I recognized, though that was stupid. There was an old frumpy man that held a sign that had my name on it. Frightened, I approached him. He introduced himself as David, and said that he was the taxi driver that will be taking me to Broadview Stables. Smiling, we both walked down to the luggage conveyor to collect my belongings.
Then I sat in the back of yet another car. The landscape all around us was constantly changing. Big cities, to wide desserts, to hilly mountains and dense forest. This really was a strange place, but it sent shiver's down my spine as I anticipated my arrival. I didn't have to wait much longer, because after about an hour, the cab slowed and pulled into a long driveway, revealing to me my new home....
Word Count: 1020 (including codes)
Muse: I guess, sort of lost my mojo towards the end.
Notes: I know it's long, sorry.
