I was sitting next to my cousins, Sweet Home Alabama blasting in my ear drum, when I saw her. The bright blue matching outfit she wore made her look like she had just stepped off a tropical island. A pair of gold earrings dangled from her ear lobes, that could easily be bigger then my fist. I rolled my eyes in annoyance at her unfashionable attire. I thought that everyone should look their best where ever they go, even if they're in an airport waiting to go through security check.
Her light blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which drew your attention to her face. Her sky blue eyes matched her clothing, and popped out against her pale skin and soft features. She was standing casually in a group with what it seemed to be her family surrounding her. A crinkly old women stood adjacent to her, at what I guessed to be no taller then 4"6. I drew my eyes away from this girl, aggravated at myself for wasting some of my poorly allotted time with my cousins, on some girl who didn't have the tinniest impact on my life. Turning back to Peggy, I make the most of the few moments I had left with her, before my mom tugs at my arm and told me it was time to say good bye to my cousin. So I found myself face to face with a tiny blond girl, the exact image of me inside, but our only feature of similarity were the light freckles sun planted on our cheeks. She was the only person on earth who ever did, or would understand me fully and completely. Or so I thought
xxx
Emily
The moment her hazel eyes locked with mine, I knew she was the kind of girl I generally stayed away from. She had on designer clothing, and two designer bags. I didn't bother to see what brand she was sporting, they're all the same. They showed what kind of person you were: a copy. When you sported things like Abercrombie, or American eagle, you were what the company wants you to be. You walked around like everyone else, and talked like everyone else, and pretty soon you WERE everyone else. You'd loose all essence of yourself, and you'd become a poser. I've known too many girls that have slipped into the dark world of stereotypical, and let me tell you it is not a place I wanted to be.
One glance at this girl told me she's no different. There was no evidence, to help me draw a new conclusion, so I searched. I studied her layered dirty blond, more on the side of brunette, hair. I looked at her sharp nose, perfectly angled, and her skinny, athletic body. Nothing there to prove me wrong. The only place, I saw a hint of emotion, were her eyes. The hazel blurred into a soft brown at the edges, and near the pupil, there were speckles of gold embedded. Deep within, they held confusion. They held sadness. There was loss somewhere buried deep underneath this teenager, but it couldn't seem to claw it's way up. I watched as she turned back to the little blond girl sitting next to her, and I awoke from my daze.
xxx
Britney
A promised tear escaped my eyes, trickling slowly down my freckled cheek. Saying good bye was always the hardest part. It got tougher every time, and it always seems like I left a piece of myself with Peggy. Alabama was my second home. I always leave this alternate universe, that I could have if I ever said the word. I've pictured myself living in the south. My aunt and uncle would take me in. Every day, I could wake up to Peggy's face, and we could have the same debate we always have about what to serve for breakfast. I could smell the crisp sent of bacon wafting under my nose, when I visited Nana and Pawpaw.
But I always chose to get on the plane, and fly back to Virginia. So then, I put my both my Bradley bags on the conveyor belt, and swiped off my flip flops. People may have mistook me as preppy, but I knew better. I knew that both the bags were presents, and the only reason I wore clothing with a moose right above my chest. I didn't want to stand out. Some girls thrived on attention, but I liked to hide in the shadows of popularity. I didn't want to be different. I just wanted to be normal. Was that too much to ask?
xxx
Emily
I stood next to granny as our bags got checked.
"Only a few weeks," I reminded myself. Because I was the oldest, my parents were sending me to take care of my granny in Memphis, Tennessee. She had some heart problems, so I would help her with simply things around the house. Most teenagers would pitch a fit, about wasting they're summer helping an elderly women do her laundry, but I'm wasn't like most teenagers. I did what my parents said, with out a word in resistance. It's not acceptable to argue with your elders in my family. I packed for weeks, making sure not to miss anything, and then my mom drove me slowly, at least 10 miles under the speed limit.
I studied the prep once again. She was writing something in a journal with a swirly elaborate design on the front. Her expression was unfathomable. Wow, maybe I had misjudged her. Maybe she wasn't just some girl who wore American Eagle.
"Yeah Right," says a little nagging voice in the back of my head. "She's probably writing a list of close she wants to order off line, or boys she planning to invite to some big bash she's planing. There's no way that she could be different then the majority of the teenage population in the country. "Another one bites the dust" was the song I would have used to describe her. God what has the world come to?? Wasn't there a point were a person could stand out and be an individual? Couldn't one person be unique?
That would probably have been too much work for some one with her brain capacity.
xxx
Britney
waiting
the time slowly drags on
each tick of the clock brings pain
it fills the narrow creases of my body
my mind is set on one memory
your voice plays over like a broken record
your eyes,
your pale green, transfixing eyes
fill me with inspiration
and depression at the same moment
as the time drags on
-Brittney Miller
I read over my poem, content with the message it sent. I planned to post it on my blog as soon as I got home. No one thought to be concerned by my depressing writing, because I wrote it with forced fake smiles, mandatory to not draw too much attention. Everything different stands out, and I couldn't afford to be the depressed emo kid, who wears black and writes about death. So I was a secret closet depresse (if that's how you spelled it), who had a phony smile plastered to her face every morning. Pretty soon, I forgot that the smiles weren't real, and the only thing that brought me back was my writing. I floated through everyday life, not really present. It was like my body was going through everyday life, but my mind wasn't. That's the big reason that I agreed to go to Alabama with my mom. I needed to get away from the life that was killing me bit by bit.
My mom kept urging me to go to the bathroom before the flight started. So, I reluctantly tore myself away from my newly born work of depressing poetry, and walked to the closest women's rest room. The gross carpeted floor had a dark, disgusting stain near the entrance.
"Ugh," I thought to myself. "I don't want to know what that is."
When I finished well, going, I washed my hands with a pink foam soap that smelled like bubblegum. I strode back to the common area of gate 18, and sat wearily back down into the vulgar airport seat." Only a few more minutes," I remember thinking, "Then you'll be flying back to real life."
xxx
Emily
I knew it's time to board the plane when I heard the unambiguous words from above my head.
"All passengers who are riding fist class or who need extra time may board now."
I grab granny's arm and feebly murmur,
"That's us" in her ear. I pick up both our ragged duffel bags, and stagger back from all the weight. It was going to be a long few weeks. I looked over my shoulder, and stared enviously at the prep. She didn't have to carry the burden of another on her shoulders, or spend three weeks with her half deaf elderly granny. I still envy her today, but at the time, I had no idea what I should be jealous of.
By the time that train of thought was over, we had made our way to the plane, and to our leather blue seats. We were near the back of the plane, so I doubted I would see her again. She would probably be in luxury in the first class section, while I sweated it out back in the economy section. Then I could get my mind off her, and just focuses on the dreary time ahead. Now I wish more then anything that I would have tuned into the chatter of my verbose granny, instead of wasting my time on such a trivial subject. The prep was just another thing I wasted my time obsessing over. All my goals were unrealistic, and I obsessed over them until I met them, or until I failed and completely fell flat on my face.
This was just another frivolous thing that, in the long run, didn't really matter. She was just some random person, and she shouldn't have mattered to me at all. So why did it bug me so much?