Mystery POV (Figure out who it is!)

Riding in an airplane was a scary feeling. The most I'd ever done was ride in a car, and this was very, very different. It was like I was sitting in a big tube, scared to death, surrounded by people who didn't seem bothered at all. One woman to my left watched a movie on a screen, headphones plugged in and on her ears. I watched movies at home. But I'd never seen this one before.

I tapped my foot on his shoe, sitting on my right side. He tapped back lightly and I looked at his face, which was twisted into a wide, toothless grin. His converse were dirty, their soles caked with old sand, unlike my sandals. He wore mismatched socks, one black and one white, but my feet were bare besides the thin leather straps and pallet at the bottom.

I sipped on the coke that the flight attendant had brought me. Opening up a package of cheddar pretzels, I nearly spilled them in the floor when the intercom buzzed to life, startling me.

'Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we've just passed over the coast and will be beginning our descent in about fifteen minutes. Welcome to America.'

He clapped his hands together and smiled at me, his eyes and nose all crinkled up in his excitement. America. I've heard it's nothing like home. But America it's his homeland, and he's taking me there. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous.

A strand of his grass skirt fell over onto my leg, tickling me. I brushed it off, laughing a bit. Why hadn't he changed into something different before we got on the plane? He's so very weird sometimes. But I love him.

I was so tired. It had been such a long flight, over nineteen whole hours. Riding in this airplane, stopping to change airports, it was all so exhausting. If I had fifteen minutes left in here, I might as well squeeze in a power nap. I closed my eyes and laid my head back, getting comfortable and allowing myself to drift off to sleep. He patted my shoulder lightly as a gesture of comfort.

I felt myself being shaken awake lightly. I didn't open my eyes, but I heard the people around me start to stir and I felt him staring at my face.

'Sleepy thing.'

'Wake up, diva cup. We're in the US of A. '

I opened my eyes, smiling at him. He had already slipped out of our row of seats, holding our luggage in his left arm. I saw the tendons in his wrist flex beneath his tattoo. He switched the luggage to his right hand and offered the left to me. I grabbed it, staring down at the umbrella filled circle.

I grabbed my bag of pretzels, not wanting to leave them behind.

'C'mon. Let's go.'

And slowly, he led me off the plane.