Young Writers Society

“Crash!” I threw my silver luggage, shiny and heavy, down to the ground as I exited the plane. Only, something felt wrong. While standing in the gate, looking all around, and getting out of other people’s way, the answer hit me. Everything was in French. I was in the wrong continent! I was in Europe, a continent of many countries, in an airport in France! Sure, the thought of flight on an airplane sounds like fun. It’s fast, and you don’t have to stay awake the whole travel time. Sometimes though, flight isn’t so great after all.

“Mom, do I have to go alone?” I pleaded to my mother, about to board the plane. She looked down at me and smiled. She replied with “Yes dear. We have been talking about this for some time now.” Frightened at the thought of flying alone, I wet my pull up. “Crrcht,” The gate announcement was starting. “Now boarding Zone 1 for flight A234 with service from Toronto, Canada to...” The announcement was cut short for an advertisement for McDonald's. As mother ushered me towards the plane, I gave her the don’t-send-me-to-that-horrible-place look. As I got closer to the boarding pass line to check the passes to get onto the plane, I became terrified even worse than before.

Hands shaking, feet trembling, it became my turn in line. I handed the boarding pass to the woman, but she said I was fine since I was only 12.

I walked onto the plane, a big flying carpet with walls, and sat in my seat, 2A. I was next to the window. Soon it was Zone 2 boarding, and finally Zone 3. Mother called me one last time before we took off. “We don’t know what warm weather is like in Canada. But I was told that it is warm in Orlando. Have fun kiddo,” she told me. Before I could answer, my cellular service was cut due to taking off. I’m really going to miss you mom, I thought to myself. The ground from above is like a big painting, I suddenly realized.With the last of the sun’s light, I saw the beautiful forest, The green grass, and the blue lakes and rivers. I then drifted away to sleep, because we had taken off at 7:35 PM.

“Hey, kid. Wake up,” said the man next to me with a slight nudge to awake me. “Thank you mister,” I replied as I grabbed my luggage. I grabbed my phone when I arrived at the exit gates to leave the airport to take a selfie. “Crash!” I threw my silver luggage, shiny and heavy, down to the ground as I exited the gate. When I went to my photos, I saw that my brown hair was in a messy bedhead state, and my tired brown eyes weren’t open all the way, probably because I was so tired. I splashed some water in my face from my water bottle, and that woke me up pretty well. When I looked around the airport, something felt wrong. While standing in the gate, looking all around, and getting out of other people’s way, the answer hit me. Everything was in French. I was in the completely wrong continent! I was in Europe, a continent of many countries, in an airport in France! Where am I? Why am I in France? How will I get home? I wondered.

“Does anyone here speak english?” I started yelling. No one answered. “BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.” I heard. A tram was coming in for a fresh load of people to take to the other terminals. I bet someone getting on that tram knows english. As I walked over to the tram stop, I kept yelling “Does anyone here speak english?”. No one answered. When I got to the tram, I yelled one more time. This time, I thought I heard a faint “I do.” As I walked over to the sound, a tall boy with extremely muscular arms extended an arm and took me by the hand. While shaking my hand he said, “Hi. I’m Jacob Hakala. What’s your name?” With my fast talking skills, I responded with “My name is Caleb Thompson. Nice to meet you.” When the tram came closer to the terminal, I noticed it wasn’t slowing down at all. “The train is going to hit us!” I yelled to the crowd. But because no one understood me, they all just stood there. Looking like an idiot, yelling to no one, and flopping around on the ground like a goofball, I dove out of the way of the train. “Do you want to stand up and go find a ticket to wherever you are going? I need my ticket to Orlando. Oh, and by the way, where are you going?” Jacob asked, completely calm. I stood up and brushed myself off. “I’m heading to Orlando, Florida. Same as you! Sure, we can go find tickets,” I told Jacob.

After we found the ticket booth, it turns out Jacob knew some French! “2 tickets to Orlando, Florida please,” He said in French. “Here are your tickets sir. Your plane leaves in 2 hours,” the ticket booth lady told him. “Hey, can I have your number?” I asked him. Without saying a word, he gave me a note with a number on it. “(269) 598-3456” was his phone number. “Thank...” I stopped because when I looked up, he was gone. “Gate B14 with service to Orlando, now boarding in Zone 1,” a man’s voice said over the microphone. Thats me, I thought.

Sure, the thought of flight on an airplane sounds like fun. It’s fast, and you don’t have to stay awake the whole travel time. Sometimes though, flight isn’t so great after all.