Keep Calm and Carry On

Prolouge

Change.

It was possibly the most horrid thing to ever curse our lives. It shoved us together and tore us apart just as we were getting comfortable. It pushed us onto planes to sit and stare out of the window until the plane lurched again and you touched down in another new city. It started rumors about why you had been to over thirty-seven schools in the last six years. It caused you to live out of an army-sized duffel bag and never unpack.

It was what was happening at the moment.

I slouched against my seat, folding my arms behind my head. Out the window, the clouds were puffy and pink; dreamlike. I yawned, turning the volume on my headphones to sixty-three percent. Eight thousand, nine hundred, forty four miles from Wellington, New Zealand to New York meant eighteen hours on a plane chewing absentmindedly on gum, listening to music, and sleeping. Sleepily, my eyelids fluttered closed, engulfing me in a comfortable darkness. The plane lurched, causing me to jerk forward and ram my forehead against the back of the seat in front of me. I groaned. Slowly, I opened my eyes, glancing out the window. Below the belly of the plane, New York City skyline glowed with its usual night life.

I was home.