Up, Up and Away

10 Sep

Meu projeto de Inglês. A idéia era escrever uma história pessoal, onde a eu teria que descrever um pouco do que eu sentia no momento. Ai vai

“Up, Up and Away”

The calendar marked August 5th. I woke to the dim light that came from outside. The sky was gray and the weather cold; such a beautiful winter day. I looked around and saw both my sisters, still asleep. Their mattresses were good three feet from me, but I could hear their deep breaths. They were the only sound in the place. That empty furniture-less, beige room.

I got up slowly as not to wake them up. Looking at the long hall that separated the living room and the bedrooms, I could see that my parent’s door was still closed. I walked towards the kitchen at the other side. There was still a mahogany table in the center (with some food on it), while the rest had been sold. Funny how I could not remember how big it looked, all empty. I stopped for a moment, my feet touching the cold, white-tiled floor. Someone had opened a door. It was my dad, who had come to wake the house. We had a place to go. A barbecue.

When I finally checked the clock, the small hand lay motionless at ten; the big one marked 47. By eleven we were all ready and set to go. My relatives and my parent’s long time friends were already there. We arrived in no time, and, as much as I tried to enjoy that day, there was always the sensation that it would also, be over in no time. Yet I refused to accept that it actually would. Time played with me; we had to go. “Good-bye” here, “Someday we’ll see each other again,” plus tears, and tears, and more tears. I couldn’t say goodbye to anyone. I didn’t. Instead, I asked to stay longer. They left to get ready, leaving me with the rest of my family. It was night; the sky had been dark for more than an hour already. Frightful. I looked at the wet, red eyes, my aunt had, then sitting down, I – for the first time in months – cried.

It took my aunt’s entire strength to convince me not to quit. I wept. I was scared. I looked around and some people were still emotional. My cousin sat beside me; he was like my brother. How could I leave this? How dared I, say goodbye to my life? This change we had ahead wasn’t necessary, it was a choice. “What a stupid choice,” I thought, while I cried for a good hour. Several of my parent’s friends – and mine – came and talked to me. It made me feel a bit better, but not fully. So many that cared about me. I missed someone; my aunt Sandra, who was sick. We never said farewell in person; it would only be weeks later that I would finally talk with her… over the phone.

I felt helpless at that moment, defeated. It soon was over, and I was taken home. My parents had everything ready when I got there, at about 9pm. In a blink, we were all off to bed. What a cold night. Never had I felt so miserable. Never.

* * *

It was now the 6th, the clock stopped at 2:30. My dad came once again to wake the house; I had not slept well. The cab would arrive soon, and would take us to the airport. 3:00. The cab arrived in a sudden. I had part of the luggage with me, while we walked downstairs. Once again time had played with me. All were comfortable in the car; my parents with my sisters in the back; I sat in the passenger seat. As the car slowly started to move, I looked at the building – which I called home – for the last time. Goodbye. The driver did not talk. The world held its breath, while my family slept a little. I couldn’t close my eyes. The night was still too cold.

* * *

At about 4:30 we had arrived at the International Airport of Guarulhos. It was now about three hours before the plane actually took off, but who can trust airports these days? My relatives promised to be there with us until it was time. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Tick. Tock. The clock now faster then ever. 7:00. Something had happened on the way, and they were late. My heart sank with the possibility that they would never come; and with the anguish, I waited more. It was not until 20 minutes before we had to go that they finally arrived. It cheered me a bit. Unfortunately 20 minutes wasn’t enough. More hugs, more goodbyes, but no tears. I was dried out, besides it was too late. We finally walked into the corridor. I looked back though, while my feet walked me forward.

The plane took off at about eight. I was lucky enough to sit by a window. Brazil, my country, my life, became smaller with every second. It stayed in place, while I flew to a new place. 11 hours later I would be over Miami.

Someone once told me that life is negative. Well, it isn’t if you are looking at it from up there. Just when I was sad the most, life threw at me such a beautiful view, welcoming me to a new phase. “Hello America,” I finally thought. “Nice to meet you, too.”

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