Plane. Airplane. The whole thing was depressing; travelling alone was probably the thing that could turn you to the miserable side. After leaving everything and everyone you loved then being stuck on a vehicle that took you away from all of those said things.
So here I was sitting in row F, seat number 2. On the plus side, I was on the isle. I hated the window seat. Damn my weak stomach. There was no one in the seat next to me, so I had room to stretch my legs. My parents had decided that I get a job and when I didn't "make an effort" in doing so, they sent me away to my aunt's house in a hell hole labelled 'La Push'.
I spent my few hours or so going through the conversation I had with them and it seemed as though my ears were only hearing the downside of everything; there was no sun, it was cold, which meant what exactly? No tan for the lovely, little 'ole me. "Say goodbye to your exquisite colour my darlings." I whispered to my bare legs – pride and joy. Note to self: remember to change into foolish jeans before landing.
Just to spite me the seatbelt sign beeped on. "Fuck." I muttered under my breath. Looking down at my hand, I fumbled with my favourite ring; a slight peace draped over me.
There was a tingle in my toes that was the only feeling in my body; everything else was numb in comparison. Landing. My ears needed to pop. I winced as it became too much for me. Fortunately, before a tear could escape my eyes, I was here. Safe and sound.
Looking at all the people jump up and fight for their luggage like hyenas in the safari, I decided against getting up. I would wait and maybe get a chance to have my own share of the killing. As always, there was a cute boy who offered to hand me my single backpack. With a simple "Thank you." And a cute smile, I took it into my smooth hands. He also managed to stop the rowdy animals behind him by stopping and gesturing that I go ahead of him. I nodded and smiled again. I was free, for the most part anyway. It was a small plane with only one large carriage and two bathrooms. I wasn't too overly surprised, who wanted to go here for a travel experience anyway? After a few minutes, customs was done. It was quite simple here; I think that's what I always loved about this place.
After a quick change in the ladies, I found myself solemn in a dark pair of jeans, simple v-neck shirt and thick jacket. My feet ushered me toward the exit. The sliding doors opened for someone ahead of me, the icy-cold air hit my face, I shivered but sauntered on. I didn't see my Aunt coming but I sure did hear her. "Caia!" My head cocked back instantly. There she was in all her native beauty. I sometimes envied the fact she was full and I a mongrel. We fell into each other's arms. I hugged her tightly. I loved my Aunt Tamaya – Maya for short.
"How was the flight bub?" She said hugging my body as we walked.
"It was okay, kinda depressing I think." I said truthfully.
"Oh come on, you loved it here last time." She nudged me. I just kept quiet. She led me to her awesome ride. "You wanna drive?"
"Really?" I looked at her and then back to her Triumph Trident T160 1975.
"Have you already forgotten everything I taught you?"
"Of course not!" I exclaimed. She knew me too well, picking me up with the Triumph, she knew I only took very little. She took my backpack off of me and put it on herself. She handed me the helmet and the keys.
My legs wrapped around the beauty, a wicked smile across my face. The wind felt its way around my torso and adrenaline streamed through me. I loved this. Only when we reached Aunt Maya's house did I notice I was soaked to the skin. Apparently it started raining ten or so minutes before we got here – the place I would call home.
Two pairs of sodden shoes passed through the threshold of the handsome house. I remember the musky smell, the exact placement of Maya's DVD collection as well as her hundred or so owl ornaments – she had a thing for owls. I remember where I had hidden out only two years ago. I remember everything that happened last time I was here.
"So Caia." Aunt Maya suddenly uttered. "You remember where your room is?"
"Well," I said smugly. "Of course I do. I even know you've either bought or received, twelve owls since I've been gone."
"Very observant my darling." She smirked. "Two from you of course, thank you again, and the others I bought."
We snorted like long-lost friends at a high school reunion.
"Just don't trip up the stairs this time!" She hollered as I started to walk toward the staircase.
"I'll try my very best dear Auntie!" I called back.
The smell of heavy smell of wood washed over me; the room, as always, had been something out of a dream for me. I loved the whole nature experience, wilderness and all. But I could only take it in small servings.