I'll Look After You

The day is finally here. It is Saturday morning and my mother and I were leaving in just a few short minutes for our long departure to our new home of London, England. I stood in the room that has been mine ever since I was born. I am going to miss it along with all the memories here. I have so many memories in this house, sleep over’s with my friends, parties and my parents get together’s with their many friends before the accident. I hope London will be way better than things have been here.

“Abby! Come on, we’re just about to leave,” I turn to see my mother standing in the door way.

“Alright,” I say with a sigh as I wipe my eyes. I was going to miss this house, I really am. I grab my Vera Bradley purse and swing it over my shoulder before I begin to follow my mother down the stairs of our old house. Once we make it outside, I turn and glance up at the house before I turn and get in the cab that was taking us straight to the airport.

My mom had already put our bags in the back of the cab. I plug my headphones in and rest my eyes as the car began to move after I buckled my seat belt. The first song that came on was Katy Perry’s Part of Me. My music is on shuffle so I can listen to all of it at once. I shut my eyes and relax as we drove to the airport.

Next thing I know, my mother is shaking me awake. “What is it?” I groan as she awoke me from a deep sleep and pull my headphones from my ears so I could hear her.

“We just got to the airport, Abby. Come on, we have to check our bags in before our flight. You didn’t forget your passport did you?” she asks, looking at me as she gets out of the cab.

“No, I have it,” I mumble as I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door before I get out and slam it shut. I go over and pull up the handle on my rolling suitcase before I reach over and grab my backpack from the trunk and shrug it on my shoulders.

My mother thanks the driver and tips him a five dollar bill before we head inside. The line for back check-in on British Airways wasn’t very long. It seemed like it was moving pretty fast.

“After we check in our bags, we need to go exchange all of our money for British pounds before we go through security,” she says as if I didn’t know.

“Can’t we just wait and do that after we land there?” I ask a bit confused as I look at her.

“I guess so, didn’t think of that,” she says with a chuckle.

My phone goes off signaling a new text message, two actually. I had a text from Haley and one from Nikki. The both of them asked the same thing: Have you left yet? I want to see you before you go.

I respond back to both of them immediately: Not yet, waiting in line at airport to check in bags. Me too!
“So, how did things go between you and Mike? I take it not too well?” I look up to meet my mother’s gaze. I shake my head ‘no’ and let out a sigh.

“Nope,” I say. “I feel bad that I ended it but there’s nothing else I could do. I just didn’t want to have to suffer being apart from him and be in a situation like that.” I tell her. She nods in response.

“That’s too bad, I’m sorry it ended like that, sweetie,” she says and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone in London, who knows,” she says with a smile.

“Hope so,” I mumble as I shift my weight on my other foot while we stand in line.

The line moves up; my mother and I were next in line. I mess with my phone for the time being. What was taking so long? Before we know it, I look up and notice my mom standing in front of the check-in station where you weigh the bags. It takes a good fifteen to twenty minutes or so to check it each of our bags. I had to pay an extra thirty dollars because mine was over the limit.

After we check our bags in, I shrug my backpack back on to my shoulders as we head over to the Security check point. There seemed to be a ton of people in line. This was going to take a while, I’m sure. Once we make it through, we gather our belongings and head over by the gate so we can wait for them to call for our flight.



“Abby, wake up; we’re here!” my mother shakes me awake and pulls me out of my deep sleep. I shift in my seat and sit up as I run a hand over my tired face.

“Okay, mom, I’m up,” I groan as I slowly stand up and stretch my tired limbs. I have never been on such a long flight before in my life, let alone out of the United States, in my nineteen years. After a few minutes, we can finally start to maneuver ourselves off the plane and into the airport.

I grab my purse and slip it over my head so it was on my right shoulder and came across on my left side. After, I pull my backpack down from the compartment above the seat and shrug it on my shoulders, my mother and I stood in the long line to exit the plane.

This next part was going to be so much fun, note the sarcasm, since we have to go through customs. I have a feeling this is going to take a while. Once my mother and I finally make it off the plane and inside the terminal to take us inside the airport, we have to stand in the line to get through customs.

After almost two-and-a-half hours of standing in line and waiting to make it through customs, we finally make it through successfully. The jetlag I have from the flight is super bad; I know I was going to be out for the night once we make it to our new home.

Before we went to get our bags from the baggage claim, I glance over at my mom.

“Mom, since we’re here, do you think we should exchange our money now?” I ask as I stop and look at her.

“Yeah, we should before we get our bags,” she says as we begin to look around for signs which point in the area where the currency exchange place is. We spot it a few minutes later and go over. The wait in the line isn’t that long. Before too long, we exchange all of our American dollars the two of us had for British pounds.

It takes a good ten minutes or so for us to find our way to the baggage claim in Heathrow Airport. It was big just like LAX is back in California. I am not quite sure which one is bigger, I feel like Heathrow may be bigger, but it doesn’t matter.

I was glad I had managed to bring a jacket with me on the plane. I tighten it around my slim body as my mom and I approach the baggage claim. The red button flashes which signals that our bags were just about to come around on the conveyer belt.

After another fifteen minutes or so, we finally get all of our bags and head out the doors of Heathrow to hail a cab to take us to our new home here in London. It was a lot colder than it normally is in California; it is definitely going to take some getting used to.

A few minutes later, a cab pulls up to the curb as my mother and I stand with our bags. A tall man steps out and takes a step forward to where we stood on the curb.

“Hello, Miss, I can help you with your bags,” the driver said and tips his hat with a small smile. He had a thick British accent.

“Oh, thank you sir,” my mother, Candace, told the man as he politely takes our bags and puts them in the trunk.

“No problem at all, Miss,” he says with a put-on smile. My mother smiles kindly back to the man. After he puts all of our bags in the back of the cab and slams the trunk shut, he opens the door to the back seat and motions for us to get in. I get in first and tell him a soft “thank you,” before my mother gets in beside me.

“Where to, Misses’?” he asks as he takes his place at the wheel. It took me a moment or two to remember that people here in London drive on the opposite side of the road than the way we do in the United States. Everything is simply swapped here in the U.K. as I’ve heard.

My mother tells the driver our address to our new place before the vehicle begins to move. I put my headphones in and turn my music on so it played all of my songs on shuffle. The first song that began to play was Cher Lloyd’s Want U Back.

Light rain beat down the window pane as the cab continued to move. We pull up in to the gravel driveway of a nice house about close to ten minutes later. We were a few miles away from downtown London. It wasn’t very far. I knew it had to be ours since my mother’s car was parked in front.

“Ah, here we are, 4825 Brook Stone Dr.,” the driver says as the car slowly comes to a stop.

“Thanks!” my mom tells the driver as he gets out and opens the door, which was really nice of him.

“You’re welcome, Miss,” he says as I step out after my mother and tighten my jacket around my body.

“Thanks, means a lot,” I thank him with a small smile as he pulls each of our bags out of the trunk. I reach for my backpack and put it on my back before I pull up the handle of my rolling suitcase. We thank the guy before he tells us to have a good day and drives off.

After my mother and I quickly get our bags inside as it begins to rain, we begin to unpack and put things in their respective places. It was nice, and I really liked it. The front foyer was big with stairs that led to the second floor on the right. I decide to look around a bit before I start to help my mom unpack some of the boxes the movers had already managed to drop off.

Once I set my bed up and everything in my new room, I lay in bed for a while with a ton of things on my mind as I wonder how things will go since I just moved here to London. It was a major transition and I’m sure I’ll get used to it. Tomorrow, I would go explore London and see what there is to do here. Right now, all I wanted was to sleep.