The plane ride took an eternity. I felt like I was sitting in that same seat for years. I could almost feel my hair growing longer, and my life getting shorter.
Okay, maybe I was being just a little melodramatic, but it was long.
Finally we landed, and I arrived at the air port. The beautiful people—a blonde haired man and a brown haired woman who looked to be maybe in their late twenties—walked off of the plane before me. The man turned to look at me and shot me a dazzling grin. Oh man, I must've looked like an idiot, standing there and staring at him, so I hurriedly looked down and walked towards the luggage that was just now being unloaded.
"Are you Emily?" an old woman with small glasses that looked like they were part of her face asked me.
I shook my head, and suddenly remembered that my aunt and uncle would be looking for me. Smart, Juliet. Because you would totally be coming to a new country—no wait, a new continent—just for the heck of it.
I grabbed my two suitcases as soon as they came around. It's a little sad, I think, that I was able to fit my entire life into just these two suitcases.
"Er… Uncle Matt, no, Uncle Pete? Aunt… Rose? Aunt Joan, that was it… Aunt Joan?" I called in a voice that, as uncomfortably loud as it was to me, still got swallowed by the noise of the terminal, while I was having trouble remembering their names.
Suddenly a woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, wearing jeans, rain boots, and a slightly oversized rain jacket, ran up to me. "Juliet!" she cried in an overly cheerful tone.
"Um… Aunt Joan?" I asked confused. Her head bobbed up and down in reply.
"Wow…" she said, looking me over for a moment, and suddenly I felt very self conscious. I wasn't wearing anything fancy. I had on a pair of purple sweat pants that had mostly acted as pyjamas as my flight took off yesterday evening in Sydney, and an old t-shirt. It was October but it had been nice and warm in Australia. "Oh, you look nice, but look outside."
I followed her to one of the many windows, my two suitcases in tow. It didn't look all that bad; we did have rain back in Australia too occasionally, unlike what several people think.
I shrugged, and she looked me over again. I was really starting to wonder whether or not she did, in fact, just think that I looked bad. "Oh, this isn't bad at all, just wait until we get to Forks!" she said with a laugh, and with that we headed out the doors and two her small BMW, on our way to 'Forks'.
The ride isn't all that long, but I slept through a bit of it, and when I had awoken the rain pounding on the roof and windows of the car was nearly deafening. I looked outside at what seemed to be a near torrential down pour, and tried to come up with whatever explanation for all of this that I could. "Are you having some sort of flood?" I asked, slightly panicked.
Aunt Joan started laughing so hard that the car was actually swerving slightly. When she had finally regained control of herself she replied, "Oh no, this, my dear, is Forks."
Forks, huh? I don't reply to her, I just nod and turn my self away, pretending that I'm asleep. Instead I gaze out of the window at the buildings, the houses. A police station comes into view, and Aunt Joan murmurs, "I wonder if Mo's off work yet…" more to herself than to me.
Mo? That must be my Uncle Mortimer. I smiled slightly, remembering his name at last. My ipod lit up and I gasped slightly, having been unaware that it was on in the first place. It read 11:14 pm. Why would he still be at work at a time like this?
Before I could wonder any more, the car came to a stop. "Juliet? Juliet, darling, you have to wake up. We're here, we're at my house."
She thought I was asleep, and so I get up slowly as if I was. I followed her through the house small house, offering to carry my own bags even though she refused. I pretended to still be groggy so as to have an excuse for not asking why my uncle wasn't there.
She showed me to my room, and I sat down on the bed, pretending to be tired more for her benefit than my own. "Well, goodnight," she said, flashing me a smile before leaving the room.
Once she was gone I sat up and surveyed the room that was now my own. Against one wall were the suitcases that I couldn't remember taking out of the car trunk. I dug through them until I found a pair of pyjamas and my toothbrush, and then stood up. The walls of the room were a pale purple, and it was small, but not uncomfortably so. There were a few posters on the wall, but I couldn't tell what they depicted because of the dim light.
There was a closet, a bed, a chair, a night stand, and little else. Luckily there was a lamp, and I leaned over and turned it on, illuminating the room. There were books lining the walls on shelves that I hadn't noticed earlier. The posters that I had seen before, I could now tell, depicted scenes of beautiful country-sides, magnificent castles, and what looked like a European town.
"Welcome to Italy!" one read, and I decided that I'd have to ask Aunt Joan about it later. I glanced out of the window once quickly before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Outside it was still raining, and there wasn't anything remotely inspiring in sight. If Aunt Joan had ever been to Italy, how did she end up in a place like this?
I sighed and looked away, before something jerked my attention back to the window. There was some sort of animal darting between the trees, more than one. I blinked, trying to see more clearly, and whatever it was, it was gone now. Maybe a cougar? A fox? Not a wolf, though—I hate wolves.