Mom told us to wait at the airport seats, so I sat down while Dad and Mom chatted with someone. Then, they went to take the car to Korea. After a minute, they finished talking, and Mom and Dad came back to us. Mom said, "Let's go." I grabbed all my stuff; it was heavy, but my sister's things were even heavier. Dad paid for the seats, and we boarded the plane. I was shocked to find myself seated next to an man. As I walked to my seat, he remarked, "Why is your face on the ground, my child?" I glanced down, puzzled, and replied, "What do you mean?" He continued, "I mean, why do you look like this? Did your teeth disappear?" Confused, I asked, "Can you speak English?" He responded, "Are you like a piece of paper?" I was annoyed, but then a girl intervened, saying, "Miss, you have to sit down; the plane is about to depart." I nodded, "Sure," and took my seat by the window. ✈️👧🧳👴🗣️🤔
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
I plugged in my headphones, but the music remained silent. I couldn't drown out Mom and Dad's conversation; every word felt like a weight on my chest. "I can't believe we're leaving forever," Mom murmured, her voice heavy with emotion. Dad's response was barely audible, but his agreement hung in the air like a cloud of sadness.
Then, the old man beside me began to speak, his words piercing through the quiet of the cabin. "I have a Sister like you," he said softly, his tone tinged with nostalgia. "She always smiles. But look at you... why aren't you talking? Oh, sorry, you don't have teeth."
Anger swelled inside me, but I masked it with a forced smile, pretending to be lost in sleep. Yet, he persisted, his words like daggers. "Are you sleeping while smiling? But when you wake up, your face is red."
Unable to bear it any longer, I pressed the call button. A flight attendant appeared, her gentle voice breaking through my turmoil. "Yes, miss, is there anything I can help with?" she asked, her eyes full of understanding.
"I want to change seats," I whispered, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. She looked from me to the old man, sensing the tension between us. "Is there a problem you want to change seats for?" she inquired, her gaze shifting back to me.
"He's disturbing me," I managed to say, my words barely escaping the lump in my throat. She turned to the old man, her expression soft yet firm. "Is there any problem?" she asked, giving him a chance to explain.
He reached for a piece of paper, his hand shaking slightly as he wrote...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
