Seahill, Northern Ireland; 1997
Tabitha was the new girl in town, just around to help her sick grandmother with her bookshop. She was quiet, trying to keep out of the way of others, particularly the attention of men. She never meant to get his atten...
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15, end of June
Taking a step off the plane, a deep inhale was taken from a small girl. She was so happy to feel her feet on the ground, not cramped up in a plane with strangers having absolutely nothing to do. Well, not nothing to do, but how were people capable to just read their books or sleep throughout that flight? She made a mental note of saving up to buy a Walkman, knowing now that it was worth the money rather than using her radio.
Her brown eyes looked up to the sky, surprised to see that it was clear, a beautiful shade of blue that was only disrupted by light clouds. She had to hurry the security would only keep her luggage for so long. She followed the flight attendant to the area, knowing that it wasn't until she was with her grandmother she may feel at ease with herself.
She had a bag on her back, and within twenty minutes, a piece of green luggage filled with all of the things she needed for the summer. Her tattered tennis shoes walked to the area of people picking up their relatives, friends, even taxi drivers trying to take a tourist somewhere. There weren't a lot of people. Seeing it was still early in the day, there was a higher chance in her mind that people would go to other places to visit for fun.
And she wasn't visiting for fun.
"Tabitha! Tabitha, I'm here!" The young girl turned her head to the voice calling out her name, her grandmother in a fragile but slightly robust form. She gave a big smile before running and hugging her beloved grandma, Sonya.
She remembered the stories she heard of her, not having seen her since she was a little girl. Unlike her own family, her grandmother was able to travel wherever she liked whenever she liked. The majority of the family who didn't leave Trinidad in the late 80s migration went either to New York or Canada. Her grandmother opted out of that and came to Ireland, somewhere she always wanted to go from a young age. It worked out for her to be able to live out her last years there.
The young girl looked at her grandmother, grey hairs fighting to grow, but she refused to let it with the power of hair dye. Her grandmother's dark brown eyes beamed with joy as thinned lips widened with a smile. She hadn't seen her grandchild since she was a small girl, and how she had grown since then.
After the prolonged greetings, they took Sonya's small blue car down to the village. It was a nice ride, quiet with the fresh wind blowing in the young girl's thick mane.
They did some catching up, Tabitha giving news about the family her grandmother missed out on. Her aunt recently gave birth to a boy, so most of the family was overjoyed with that. She brought pictures for her Grandma Sonya to keep. It would be her seventh grandchild, that she, unfortunately, may never get to see face to face.
They entered the town, many people walking in the street to their destinations. Most gave a hello to her grandmother, smiling at her familiar face. Being the awkward teen she was, Tabitha studied her fingers, thinking it was her best option.
