I stare at the redhead in front of me, nervously tapping my foot repeatedly against the hard floor, almost creating an echo.
One more to go, then it's my turn. The butterflies in my stomach are getting wilder and crazier for each second that passes, the hand that's holding my passport and ticket is shaking uncontrollably, and I start to think the butterflies are trying to suffocate me from the inside.
Relax. I tell myself. This is what I've been waiting for since kindergarten. It's not too late to back out. I can still turn around, chicken out, but I won't. I'm ready. I've been ready for years. I've been thinking about this for so long, the packing list has been stuck in my head since eighth grade.
The redheaded lady in front of me smiles at the man who stands by the gate, the man who is checking the passports and ticket and who is ready to send me away, before she is allowed to walk into the plane and I gulp.
A hard shove on my back cause me to take a step forward, resulting in me ending up right in front of the airport worker who flashes me a broad grin as I hand him my papers, and I glare back at my brother. Judging by the smirk on his face, he's the one who pushed me forward, forcing me to get myself together and not let my feet stay glued to the floor. Even though my twin brother Emil is a pain in the ass most of the time, I'll miss him for sure. I'm going to miss my sweet little sister Ida as well. Heck, I'm going to miss everyone but it's not like I'm going to be gone forever. I guess I'm just very emotional right now.
"Don't be nervous", the airport worker says as he gives me my passport and ticket back, "it's nothing to be afraid of."
I force a smile onto my pink, plump lips as I make my way to a free spot beside the gate where I can say goodbye to my family.
My mom and dad both engulf me in a hug, holding on so tight they help the butterflies in my stomach with their mission to suffocate me, but I find myself hugging back with almost twice the strength. I say goodbye to them both before I turn to my little sister. She's not that small nor young, almost twelve, but the fact that I've recently turned eighteen cause me to see her as my baby sister. Her cerulean eyes are a straight copy of my mother's and I's, and right now, they are staring up at me with sadness. She pulls back a strand of chestnut brown hair, which she also got from my mother, and asks me if I have to leave. I embrace her in a hug while whispering, in the most soothing voice I can, that it's only temporarily.
Ida reluctantly nods and aimlessly play with my blonde hair which she braided for me before we left.
My brother, who is literally the boy version of me, is the last one I say goodbye to and while I wrap my arms around him, he just has to mess with my unease with planes and tell me it might crash and shatter itself and all the passengers, including me, into a million of pieces.
I scoff at him, which turns into a glare as he ruffles my hair again and almost pulls it out of its braid, and stick my tongue out.
The line of passengers who are boarding the plane has almost come to an end and I pick up my black leather bag and sigh heavily.
Here we go.
I mumble a goodbye to my family again, waving at them as well, as I slowly make my way through the gate and onto the plane.
After a quick glance at my ticket, I figure out I have seat 36C and I desperately hope it's by the window and if not, I hope it's by the aisle. My whole body, every single existing and functioning nerve and vein, is hoping that I won't get a seat in the middle between two others. If I do, faith is not on my side because I'll get panic for sure and being stuck between two strangers for about 15 hours is not on my bucket list.
Slowly, I walk by the seats and glance at the numbers while I'm at it.
22... 24.... 26... 30... 34.... 36.
I stop in the middle of the aisle, causing an old couple behind me to almost walk right into me, and gaze over the seats.
My heart skips a beat and I scream inwardly in joy as I realize I have the one by the window and I quickly take my bag off of my shoulder and sit down and make myself comfortable. A small smile is playing on my lips and before I know it, the seat beside me gets occupied by another traveler but I don't bother turning my head in that direction.
I'm too busy with staring outside the window at the grey sky and low airport building. I've plugged in my earphones and completely zoned out from reality. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach are everywhere and nowhere, spreading throughout my whole body. Hopefully, they'll die when the plane is up in the air.
Not a minute soon nor too late, a lady's voice starts talking in the speakers, telling us all to put on our seatbelts while going through safety precautions.
I send one last message to my family and friends before I turn my phone to flight mode and plop a gum into my mouth. Then we're off.
L.A here I come.