Natasha:
"Natasha! Can you come downstairs a moment please?" my mom called upstairs of our Brooklyn townhouse on a Thursday afternoon. It was five o'clock and I was just beginning to feel hungry. I took out my earphones and headed downstairs, mentally scrolling through the food in the fridge.
"What's up?" I asked as I entered the kitchen. My parents were sitting at the kitchen bench, their laptop was open, and California brochures surrounded them. They smiled sheepishly as I sat down next to them.
"What's going on?" I asked. A tight circle of concern had twisted itself into my stomach.
"Honey, we've decided that, well, we know you don't really fit in here, so, we're sending you to California," they told me guiltily.
"What? Alone? Why?" I pleaded. I could feel tears prick my eyes. I mean, being here sucked but at least I had these guys. In California I would have no one at all.
"We're sorry honey, we thought you'd settle in nicely here, but, you haven't. We've talked to the foster care agency, and, we all decided it was in your best interest to go to California. We've enrolled you in a school there, and, you're going to live in a share house, with five other people who go to the same school."
"I can't believe this; in what universe is it in my 'best' interest to be moved to a new state all on my own?" I said and ran back upstairs, not giving them a chance to explain themselves any further. I didn't want to hear it. I stayed in my room for the rest of the evening. I even ignored their desperate calls for dinner. But, I was too busy, planning my departure. I dug out my old black backpack, and filled it with the necessities. A toothbrush and a few articles of black clothing, I was already a trained spy and assassin so I knew how to pack lightly. After changing into black cargo pants, a black sweat-shirt and hoodie and combat boots, I took one last look around my room, the place I'd learnt to call home for the last seventeen years, and left through my window.
I hit the ground running. I had to, to build up enough momentum to jump the three metre high fence. I cleared it easily and made it to the other side. I was now on the street, and I had no idea where I was to go. As I walked the busy streets alone, I began to think about California. I had a couple thousand saved up from my job as a waitress in a local diner. I'd also seen what my parents were looking at; it was a share house, near Venice Beach. I decided to go to California.
I signalled for a cab, with this confident feeling.
"Where to girlie?" the cab driver asked blankly.
"JFK please."
"You sure? You look kinda young?"
"Well I'm over, twenty-one," I replied coldly.
"Okay then," he said and joined the long line of cars at a red light. Before I knew it, I was outside the airport.
"Well here ya go, that's thirty one-fifty," the man said. I handed him the cash and got out. I watched the cab as it disappeared around the corner. With that, I headed inside the airport. It was busy and bustling with people. I approached a snippety looking blonde woman behind the desk to purchase tickets.
"How may I help you?"
"A ticket to LA please?"
"I'm going to have to see some ID from you," she said, as if she didn't believe for a second that I was an adult. Feeling very smug, I showed her my fake ID, because seriously, who looks closely at these things? As she asked for payment, she looked very surprised to see me paying with cash. But, she didn't say anything.
"Okay, Natalie, one ticket for LA, departing in one hour from gate fifteen, please head to the check-in desk right over there," she ordered and pointed to a long line of people.
"Thanks," I replied and made my way over where I joined the line. After fifteen minutes, I was checked in, and waiting in the lounge to board.
After a further half an hour, I was seated in 24A next to a teenage couple who wouldn't stop making out. I relaxed into my chair as best I could as we took off. Once we were in the air, I drifted into a light sleep.
What seemed to be only five minutes later, I was being gently shaken awake by an air hostess and was told to return my chair to its upright position. I looked out the window to see sunny California. I didn't like it. The plane landed with a gentle thud on the tarmac. I gathered my hoodie, and bag from underneath the seat and got off the plane as quickly as I could.
Inside the airport was crazy. Even worse than New York. I kept my head down as I wound my way through the swarms of people. I eventually, fought my way outside into the heat. It almost burnt my skin. I had the address of the 'share house', so got a cab and ordered the driver to take me there. It was while I was in this cab that I wondered what I would be like if I still lived in Russia, with my father. It would suck, much more than this.
"Here we are. Are you sure you're going to be okay? You look kinda young?"
"Yes. I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth. I got out and looked at the house. It was a pretty nice house. Two-storey and very modern. I didn't have a key or, anything of the sort so I decided to just knock on the door. No one answered so I picked the lock. I opened the door to fine an empty house. I guess I was the first one to arrive. I went upstairs and after dumping my bag on the floor, went into one of the many bedrooms and climbed into bed and fell asleep.
