Young Writers Society

My guess is no one will reply to this, but I'll try anyway.

The time is 7:08 pm. The plane has just landed @ LAX airport. I can feel gravity give way as the plane drops at a steady pace on the mud streaked runway. The lights from the airport grow stronger as the plane slides into home base. Yellow lights, streaming into the darkness, blurred by the rain. The pilot has clicked into the intercom, his voice is faded by fatique, his message is short. Something about the time of night, our location, the weather. And he's gone again. Hundreds of people shove to get off the plane first, babies are screaming. Luggage is streaming from the carry on bins, falling down, hitting the floor.
I wait, sit in the edge of the seat as all the anxious people step into the rain, until I am virtually the last person here. I stand up, glance out the rain streaked window and prepare to face my future.

I wince as the cold night air hits my face. Blinded by the icy wind and mottled rain, i stumble half-heartedly down the steps.
Uniforms usher me to a small mini-van already packed with smelly people. It was a long flight, one i definitely didn't enjoy.
The mini-van hums loudly over the nervous chatter around me. someone's elbow bums against mine. My foot is squashed under someone elses.

Rage burns inside me. Sometimes I wonder if I am evil I have no conscience to speak of. I do not remember what guilt is like, or if indeed I ever felt it. People on the bus stare at my damp crow black hair and my golden eyes. I lagh at them in my head. The only human I have ever loved is gone now and I am alone in the world whats to stop me from doing what i want? Now that my dad is gone I only care about number one; me I love myself alot, its not like anyone else will.