Little Lion Man
Un
JFK airport was humming with activity as I made my way through the crown towards the ticket desk. My phone vibrated once again in my pocket, and yet again, I ignored it along with the stares I was receiving from those around me. The line wasn’t very long, leaving me to only wait a few moments.
“I can help the next customer, here,” the young man behind the desk called, looking quickly
from my bandaged wrists to my eyes.
“I’d like a one-way ticket. What do you have boarding within the hour?” I asked, hiding my arms out of his sight.
He clicked away at his keyboard before looking back up at me, “London, Los Angeles, Paris, and Vancouver – from this terminal.”
I thought over my choices as I shifted my backpack, “London.”
“One ticket?” He asked, I nodded in response, “five hundred dollars and thirty-eight cents, please.” His smile was curt as I dug through my backpack for my wallet. I pulled out the wad of hundred dollar bills I had withdrawn from the ATM just an hour earlier. His eyes widened as I separated six bills from the wad and slid them across the counter, “Did you need a car rental as well?”
“I’ll take care of that when I land, thanks.” I looked away as I waited for the ticket to print, a celebrity or someone important was making their way to board a plane. The flashing cameras and large group of people tipped me off to this. I watched the spectacle for a moment as some of the paparazzi started shouting at whomever they had surrounded and airport security intervened.
“Your flight has already began boarding at gate H4, have a safe trip.”
I thanked him before turning away and heading to the gate, anticipating putting distance between myself and New York City.
Upon landing my first priority became finding a place to stay, I hoisted my backpack higher up on my shoulder and headed for the information desk, careful to avoid bumping into my fellow travelers. I waited patiently in line, taking the time to look at my phone. I had new voicemails and countless texts, but only chose to respond to one. I opened Katie’s message which read:
hope you’re alright, please text/call. we’re all worried about you.
‘i’m fine,’ I typed out, ‘landed in London, will call when I get to my hotel.’
“How can I help you, miss?” The clerk sounded out, I looked up and she smiled brightly to me. I stepped up to my place at the counter.
“I’m looking for a hotel,” I said, “I didn’t really plan ahead.”
“Alright,” She said, “How long would you like to stay?”
“I’m not sure,” I gave her a shy smile, feeling bad that I wasn’t being much help, “Maybe two weeks?”
She nodded, “Your price range?”
“It’s not a major concern,” I said, looking away as she began clicking away.
“If you like, I could book your stay for you right here. I think the Athenaeum Hotel will suit your needs. If you decide to stay longer, they also offer apartments,” She smiled. I opened my backpack and fished out my American Express card and let her book the room, “Would you like me to call a car for you?”
“Yes please.”
After getting settled in my room, I looked out at my view of the park across from the hotel and sighed in relief. I was three thousand miles away from anyone who knew me or could control me, I smiled at the solitude of my situation; I soaked it all in. Just 72 hours earlier, I’d been in a padded room ‘for my own safety’ after attempting suicide. Even as I’d been boarding the airplane, my parents had been figuring out a way to have me committed for a long term stay at a mental health facility. So, after careful consideration, I’d emptied my trust fund of the 2.8 million dollars that my parents had set aside for me and left. I wasn’t crazy and I really didn’t want to kill myself, I’d just seen it as an escape from them and their standards. At 20, I was an adult and legally allowed to make my own decisions, but there was no telling my parents that, so I left and I would never, ever look back. I was free as a bird and I had flown away.
“I can help the next customer, here,” the young man behind the desk called, looking quickly
from my bandaged wrists to my eyes.
“I’d like a one-way ticket. What do you have boarding within the hour?” I asked, hiding my arms out of his sight.
He clicked away at his keyboard before looking back up at me, “London, Los Angeles, Paris, and Vancouver – from this terminal.”
I thought over my choices as I shifted my backpack, “London.”
“One ticket?” He asked, I nodded in response, “five hundred dollars and thirty-eight cents, please.” His smile was curt as I dug through my backpack for my wallet. I pulled out the wad of hundred dollar bills I had withdrawn from the ATM just an hour earlier. His eyes widened as I separated six bills from the wad and slid them across the counter, “Did you need a car rental as well?”
“I’ll take care of that when I land, thanks.” I looked away as I waited for the ticket to print, a celebrity or someone important was making their way to board a plane. The flashing cameras and large group of people tipped me off to this. I watched the spectacle for a moment as some of the paparazzi started shouting at whomever they had surrounded and airport security intervened.
“Your flight has already began boarding at gate H4, have a safe trip.”
I thanked him before turning away and heading to the gate, anticipating putting distance between myself and New York City.
***
Upon landing my first priority became finding a place to stay, I hoisted my backpack higher up on my shoulder and headed for the information desk, careful to avoid bumping into my fellow travelers. I waited patiently in line, taking the time to look at my phone. I had new voicemails and countless texts, but only chose to respond to one. I opened Katie’s message which read:
hope you’re alright, please text/call. we’re all worried about you.
‘i’m fine,’ I typed out, ‘landed in London, will call when I get to my hotel.’
“How can I help you, miss?” The clerk sounded out, I looked up and she smiled brightly to me. I stepped up to my place at the counter.
“I’m looking for a hotel,” I said, “I didn’t really plan ahead.”
“Alright,” She said, “How long would you like to stay?”
“I’m not sure,” I gave her a shy smile, feeling bad that I wasn’t being much help, “Maybe two weeks?”
She nodded, “Your price range?”
“It’s not a major concern,” I said, looking away as she began clicking away.
“If you like, I could book your stay for you right here. I think the Athenaeum Hotel will suit your needs. If you decide to stay longer, they also offer apartments,” She smiled. I opened my backpack and fished out my American Express card and let her book the room, “Would you like me to call a car for you?”
“Yes please.”
***
After getting settled in my room, I looked out at my view of the park across from the hotel and sighed in relief. I was three thousand miles away from anyone who knew me or could control me, I smiled at the solitude of my situation; I soaked it all in. Just 72 hours earlier, I’d been in a padded room ‘for my own safety’ after attempting suicide. Even as I’d been boarding the airplane, my parents had been figuring out a way to have me committed for a long term stay at a mental health facility. So, after careful consideration, I’d emptied my trust fund of the 2.8 million dollars that my parents had set aside for me and left. I wasn’t crazy and I really didn’t want to kill myself, I’d just seen it as an escape from them and their standards. At 20, I was an adult and legally allowed to make my own decisions, but there was no telling my parents that, so I left and I would never, ever look back. I was free as a bird and I had flown away.