𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ☾ 𝐥. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

1 | Call Me by Your Plane

Violet
—

        TODAY IS THE WORST DAY of my whole entire life. Yes, in all my seventeen years and 27 days of life, this is the worst one. Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

When I was thirteen my parents got a divorce. Wow, so quirky, so different! I know. But to be fair, my mother does have a new family now in London with a guy named Christopher, whom I've only met once, and a four year old daughter named, Raina. She immediately cut all ties with me and my dad once she got the chance. Changing her last name from Steele to Clemson, going to the farthest place imaginable, and posting pictures of her new fabulous life.

So I thought.

I got an email from my mom one day, asking me to come to London for the summer. I contemplated telling her that I hate her guts and would rather die in an underground bunker with no food rather than spend time with her and her new family, but my dad said that that was a little aggressive. So I replied, "I'll have to think about it." I definitely did not think about it. I spent weeks and weeks dodging her emails, ignoring her constant calls, and some of her paragraph long text messages. At that point, I really wanted to just block her number.

Then, she began to text my dad. Now I knew that this was definitely not my decision anymore. After having a two hour FaceTime call with my mom and my dad who was pretending to actually care about the conversation, they both decided on making me go— definitely against my will. Isn't that breaking some type of law or something?

So now I am packing two weeks worth of clothes into a rose gold suitcase for a flight that's in seven hours. Great. I closed the bottom drawer of my white wooden dresser, placing the last piece of clothing into my suitcase. I zipped it up with a bit of a struggle (I don't pack lightly) and decided to carry my luggage down the stairs and already get a head start for the airport.

Something about airports late at night just gives me a nice calm feeling. It's quiet and serene. People have stories just from how they present themselves. Some are going on vacation, and some are moving their whole life away to another country. Some are saying hello to their relatives, and some are saying goodbye to theirs. It was a nice place to be. Undoubtedly one of my favorite places in the world.

Planes— that's where I falter. I've never been a big fan of airplanes or heights. Fun fact, this is my first time flying alone, which makes this experience one hundred times more scarier. In the air being comforted by just yourself? That's terrifying.

The time was 12:07am and my dad was fast asleep on the couch, watching this week's episode of Shark Tank. I pulled out a piece of lined paper from my notebook pad and decided to leave a note for him, so he doesn't file a missing person's report once he wakes up.

        Hey dad. I'm leaving for the airport now so yeah. Don't watch the newest House Hunters without me or I'm going to have to kill you. See ya in two weeks paps. Deuces.
- Violet :)

I slipped the note under the fruit bowl on the dining table and started for the door. I don't have an actual drivers license, so I'm going to have to take the bus (per usual). I have my permit, but I never got around to actually taking the drivers test. I know I would pass, but sometimes it's just easier to have other people drive for you.

I locked the front door and rolled my suitcase to the nearest bus stop. The sky was pitch black with only a couple stars brightening up the place, but some streetlights glowed enough for me to be able to see what's a few feet in front of me.

The bus stop was empty and littered with paper towels and the remains of someone's bean burrito from Chipotlé. I stood beside the bench, not daring to sit down on that bacteria filled seat, waiting for the bus that will take me to the Ontario International Airport.