Chapter 1
The rise of the early morning sun peeked through the tip of the mountainside, where the bare trees lining the highway casted shadows on the asphalt. I was never a morning person, but I was forced to wake up at 4:30 in the morning in order to be ready for my 8:00 am flight to my aunt and uncle's house. Automatically, I was in a bad mood, and of course, my mom knew this. I slowly stepped out of the vehicle after my mother found a parking spot on P9 in the crowded garage.
The next hour or so consisted of checking in all my bags, waiting in countless lines, and saying the most painstakingly long goodbye to my mother. I wasn't too excited towards living half across the world with the whole idea of new surroundings, new people to meet, and a new way of living, but I was feeling a bit optimistic. I kept telling myself, 'Expect the unexpected.' Hell, who am I kidding- there is nothing but huge grasslands filled with grazing farm animals. I'll probably be cut off from the rest of civilization. This'll be one gruesome stay. I finally boarded flight 253. I stepped onto the plane and frantically looked to my ticket for my seat number. The aircraft was crowded and noisy from the constant chatter of the passengers. It was my first time ever on a plane and I could hardly contain how nervous I was since I wasn't too fond of heights.
Once I found my seat, I got situated and gazed at the rest of the strange faces that entered the plane. I eventually focused on the flight attendant who was pointing passengers to their seats. She was a thin girl, who wore her hair in a tight bun. Her wardrobe consisted of a black pencil skirt and white blouse; very "blah" for her chipper personality.
After I got tired of watching her seat strangers, I took out my passport and opened it. My information was printed clearly in typewriter-like font. Brittany M. Thompson; 17; Born September 8th, 1993; Place of birth, Coalton, Pennsylvania, USA. I glanced at my picture. Boy, did I know how to pick out my flaws. My mother always used to tell me, 'You are your biggest critic, Brittany.' Was she right… My hair was a mess, my smile was crooked, and my eyes looked squinty. Eww. But trying to keep a positive attitude, I didn't look half bad. My beach wavy blonde hair lay gracefully down past my chest. Bits and pieces of red highlights could be seen through the curls. The focal point was my crystal ice blue eyes; they were intense and would send chills down your spine just by looking at them. The only thing that fell in their way were my straight peek-a-boo dyed side bangs. A scar on my left eyebrow, from when I had it pierced, stood out as well. I had the quirkiest little grin on my face that day the picture was taken. I was kinda happy to receive my very first passport. My teeth had shown through my full lips, and my upper lip was complimented by a Monroe piercing.
By the time I fully examined my passport, the plane had already taken off. I hardly noticed the jet speed and that empty feeling in my stomach. I dug around in my bag for my iPod. I put my ear phones in and searched for a song. I thought about a lot of things when I listened to music, life being one of them. I thought about my mother, who figured it was best to send me on this so called "vacation." She knew that this would be a good time to get a clean start and didn't want how we lived interfering with my life. Well, I must say that it interfered enough. After about thirty minutes of listening to music and deep thought, I managed to fall asleep. I had over fifteen hours and two layovers left until I arrived at my destination: Culross Fife, Scotland.