Status: I try
I Just Want to Be Free.
1. "puta de mierda" He spat.
”Lento 8785, viimeinen kuulutus henkilölle Jasmin Andrew” (”Flight 8785, last call to person Jasmin Andrew”) Fuck, fuck, fuck, I cursed in my mind. I was lost in the Helsinki-Vantaa airport. I didn’t know how that was even possible; I knew this airport better than my own pockets. It was maybe the rush of running away. When I finally found the gate of the flight I was missed from, I sighed from relief. I showed my passport and the ticket to the woman, standing at the gate and walked in to the plane. I took my seat and closed my eyes.
“puta de mierda” (fucking bitch) He spat and slapped me on my cheek. “i mierda te odio” I screamed to my dad and ran to my room, crying. “Fucking asshole Mexican” I mumbled. I missed my mom. I don’t know why did she ever fell in love with that man. That was it. I took my suitcase from under my bed and started to shove the few pieces of clothing I owned into it. I took my CD’s from the table and all the electrics I thought I needed, shoving them on top of the pile of clothes. Makeup, sketch book, shoes, laptop, skateboard. All packed. I put on a jacket and messenger bag. I took my passport, phone, headphones and wallet. I need to go and empty my bank account. I sighed, then opened my phone and opened the internet tab. I booked one ticket to San Diego. I suddenly started to smile. I hated Finland, I always had. I only lived here because my mom was Finnish. After she died, everything changed. My father didn’t love me anymore, well he never did, but it went worse.
I wrote him a note and disappeared to the cold, snowy night.
Para el hombre que se suponía que era mi padre.
espero que usted muera, espero que te ahogues con esas pastillas que toma. Me voy a casa, mi verdadero hogar. Nunca me verás de nuevo, que es probablemente bien para usted.
con amor, puta.
("For the man who was supposed to be my father.
I hope you die, I hope you choke on those pills you take. I'm going home, my real home. Never see me again, which is probably good for you.
with love, bitch.")
After 21 hours on plane, I finally was home. I walked happily to get my suitcase and put my coat into it taking out my skateboard. It was so warm here. Finland had well below zero, so the warmth weren’t really a bad thing. I walked out of the terminal and light a cigarette. I hadn’t had a smoke in 24 hours. I felt relieved. I sat down, on to my board. I closed my eyes and took a long drag from the cancer stick. When I blew the smoke out, I let out a sound, which sounded like a moan. Well, it kind of was. I was just so happy. I didn’t have to deal with my dad anymore. I took another long drag. My eyes were still closed. I stretched my long legs and at the same second, I felt something hit my feet. My eyes flew open and the sudden sunlight made my vision blurry.
“I’m so sorry” I threw my cigarette away and I helped the guy up, still blinded by the sun. He had tripped on my feet. “It’s okay, I should watch where I walk, but it’s annoying to stare at your feet, when you are as tall as me” He laughed. He had the sweetest laughter and the most melodic voice I had ever heard. I finally got my vision back. He really was tall. I mean, I’m 5’9 feet tall, and I’m a fucking girl. He had to be at least 6’3 feet’s. His face, he was beautiful. Did I just call him beautiful in my mind? He also looked familiar. “Are you okay? I mean, there is blood on your palm” I asked and he nodded. “You? I mean I must have left a bruise to you or something” He laughed again. “I’m Jasmin” I offered him my hand. He took it and pulled me into a hug. “Hi Jasmin, I’m Austin and I only hug” He said laughing. I loved it how he laughed so much.
“puta de mierda” (fucking bitch) He spat and slapped me on my cheek. “i mierda te odio” I screamed to my dad and ran to my room, crying. “Fucking asshole Mexican” I mumbled. I missed my mom. I don’t know why did she ever fell in love with that man. That was it. I took my suitcase from under my bed and started to shove the few pieces of clothing I owned into it. I took my CD’s from the table and all the electrics I thought I needed, shoving them on top of the pile of clothes. Makeup, sketch book, shoes, laptop, skateboard. All packed. I put on a jacket and messenger bag. I took my passport, phone, headphones and wallet. I need to go and empty my bank account. I sighed, then opened my phone and opened the internet tab. I booked one ticket to San Diego. I suddenly started to smile. I hated Finland, I always had. I only lived here because my mom was Finnish. After she died, everything changed. My father didn’t love me anymore, well he never did, but it went worse.
I wrote him a note and disappeared to the cold, snowy night.
Para el hombre que se suponía que era mi padre.
espero que usted muera, espero que te ahogues con esas pastillas que toma. Me voy a casa, mi verdadero hogar. Nunca me verás de nuevo, que es probablemente bien para usted.
con amor, puta.
("For the man who was supposed to be my father.
I hope you die, I hope you choke on those pills you take. I'm going home, my real home. Never see me again, which is probably good for you.
with love, bitch.")
After 21 hours on plane, I finally was home. I walked happily to get my suitcase and put my coat into it taking out my skateboard. It was so warm here. Finland had well below zero, so the warmth weren’t really a bad thing. I walked out of the terminal and light a cigarette. I hadn’t had a smoke in 24 hours. I felt relieved. I sat down, on to my board. I closed my eyes and took a long drag from the cancer stick. When I blew the smoke out, I let out a sound, which sounded like a moan. Well, it kind of was. I was just so happy. I didn’t have to deal with my dad anymore. I took another long drag. My eyes were still closed. I stretched my long legs and at the same second, I felt something hit my feet. My eyes flew open and the sudden sunlight made my vision blurry.
“I’m so sorry” I threw my cigarette away and I helped the guy up, still blinded by the sun. He had tripped on my feet. “It’s okay, I should watch where I walk, but it’s annoying to stare at your feet, when you are as tall as me” He laughed. He had the sweetest laughter and the most melodic voice I had ever heard. I finally got my vision back. He really was tall. I mean, I’m 5’9 feet tall, and I’m a fucking girl. He had to be at least 6’3 feet’s. His face, he was beautiful. Did I just call him beautiful in my mind? He also looked familiar. “Are you okay? I mean, there is blood on your palm” I asked and he nodded. “You? I mean I must have left a bruise to you or something” He laughed again. “I’m Jasmin” I offered him my hand. He took it and pulled me into a hug. “Hi Jasmin, I’m Austin and I only hug” He said laughing. I loved it how he laughed so much.
♠ ♠ ♠
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