The Fox and the Flower

This wasn't what I wanted. Certainly wasn't what I was expecting. Life was supposed to be fun, fair, and free of pain. I realize I've just described how a five year-old might view the world, but that's how I felt. When you're five you don't expect anything sad or tragic to happen to you. You most certainly don't expect your parents to die in a car accident.

"Everything's going to be alright, Charlotte. I hear Oklahoma is lovely this time of year," the social worker told me.

I remember at the time suspecting her words to be practiced and glaring at that insincere smile of hers. That was couple days after my parents funeral and we where still working out the paper work to ship me off to my aunt and uncles place in Tulsa. It was either move in with them or hello nearest crappy orphanage. I figured my flesh and blood would probably be more homey than a government building. Besides, you almost never hear about a 14 year-old getting adopted. Everyone wants a toddler or new born baby so the transitions easier. The thing is, I've never met my aunt or my uncle before.

"Economy Class. Section A now boarding. Section A now boarding,"

The intercom rang out through the waiting section and I rub my eyes, trying to awake from my little nap. I fumble around in my pocket to check my boarding pass, but am having trouble wiggling my hand into my pocket and I think I just knocked over my coffee. Hey, you try getting dragged for three hours in city traffic at 2:00AM to the Dallas Airport and see if you're awake enough to remember your middle name. Finally yanking the slip of paper out of my pocket, I scan it for my section. 'A', that's me. Picking up the few things that I actually own in this world, which involved a backpack and a single suitcase, I find my place in line behind a family of three and wait my turn to board. I've never flown before. I always thought it was for people who had money and connections. You know, that type. But looking around the waiting room I think I was too quick to judge. They had called the First Class people first I'm guessing, because all that's left are what I would call normal people. Just average folk you'd see down the street. No fancy fur coats or diamond rings, just sneakers and beat up jeans.

Ooh! Write that down. Fishing around in my backpack, I find my song book pretty easily and scribble down the words before I have a chance to forget. Before the accident I used to write songs all the time and play them on the piano we had in the living room. Ever since they basically donated everything we owned I haven't had the chance to play anything. All these lyrics I've come up with in my book are just unsorted melodies at this point and I don't have the courage to sing them out loud. But I hope and pray with every fiber of my being that they have a piano or at least a guitar where I'm going. Even a public piano in some pawn shop would do. All I know is that I can't survive without music. I'll literally go crazy. When it's my turn to board I cram my book back into my bag and hand the lady my ticket. She rips the pass in half and hands me a piece.

"Welcome aboard!" she says in an overly perky voice.

I suspect the three coffees in the trash can aren't from the rest of the staff. Mustering a weak smile at her, I go on my way and board the plane. I don't know why, but I always imagined planes would be more... spacious. Now I'm a pretty thin girl, but even I'm having trouble trying to squeeze past people to my seat. A good portion of them are complaining and I hear a baby crying somewhere in the back. My first impression of flying Economy? It sucks. Even when I eventually do get to my seat, there's barely enough room to stretch my legs out. But one thing I am grateful for is the window seat. Lifting the little slide cover up, all I see are baggage karts and men with lit up sticks directing planes. Makes me kind of wonder what the sky will look like once I'm level with it. I've always wanted to be closer to the stars. Maybe that'll happen tonight.

Once I've gotten myself situated, bags tucked neatly under my seat, the light comes on for us to buckle our seat belts and the intercom clicks on.

"Welcome aboard ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for flying United Airlines. Weather in Tulsa is a comfortable 74 degrees and we will be arriving at proximately 3:50AM. Please pay attention as one of our flight attendants show you the nearest exits and emergency procedures. Prepare for take off in about twenty minutes,"

The pilots voice cuts out and at the top of the isle appears a flight attendant dressed in a blue uniform. My brain fazes out for the majority of the presentation, but I get the jist of what to do. For the next twenty minutes I stare out the window and try to inch away from the old Asian lady next to me who seems bent on the idea that my brown hair isn't natural. Judging by her poor English skills, she's new to the country. The end of twenty minutes is signaled by the ding of the intercom, and the pilot warns us to prepare for take off. I tighten the seat belt around my waist and straight up in my seat. To be honest, I'm kind of nervous. I don't know what it feels like to take off.

My curiosity is short lived when I feel the plane pick up speed and begin to lift at a slanted angle. The force of the plane moving sends me further into my seat and I grip the arms until my knuckles go chalk white. Well, I definitely wasn't expecting it would be like this. Eventually the plane straightens out, the force of the speed lessens, and I'm allowed to relax. Taking a deep breath I let go of the seat and try to focus my attention on the outside. It wasn't what I expected it to be either. I thought the sky would be bright with all the stars, but I find the brightest thing is the city down below. It's breath taking when you see it for the first time.

Immediately I whip out my song book and scribble all the rhymes and poetic words that come to mind whenever I look down at all the street lights and alive buildings. I can feel the Asian ladies eyes boring into me so I move closer to the window.

"Why you dye hair? You no like black hair?! Why you no like black hair?!"

I swallow and pretend that I can't hear her, but she keeps nagging and nagging... I can't help it, I can't take it anymore.

"Look lady, my hair is naturally brown okay!? I don't dye my hair and I have nothing against black hair!" I snap.

Looking away from my writing, I cautiously glance over to see what kind of damage I've done. She just sits there and glares at me some more.

"You Americans! No respect for elders!"

Without any warning, she lifts up her small handbag and starts beating me over the head with it.

"Hey! Lady! Quit!," I hold my forearm up for some type of shield, but I think she has some kind of broach on that bag because something keeps pricking me.

This was going to be a long first flight...