Panic, exhaustion and frustration. The early morning rush before you set of to go on holiday. Continuous lists running through my mind challenging me to make sure I’ve remembered everything. Then we set off, a mile down the road and the irritant voice of my little sibling reach’s full volume and almost pierced my eardrums. Placing my headphones in my ears I drift off to the sound of sweet music.
What felt like a second later, an elbow goes painfully into my side. We’re here. As I stepped out the car I stretched and untangled my pliable legs. When we reached the check in area it offered no relief. Confined, clammy and chaotic. The terminal building resembled a busy street in New York: a sea of faces moving in an unseen current. Hundreds of people struggling to stay awake as they pace themselves forward step by step to the front of the que. I glance over towards the waiting area and see people asleep on their luggage. Exhausted and fed up: just like me.
Finally, after hours of waiting we were able to put our luggage on the conveyor. The bothersome sound of the announcement’s on the microphone being called out every time I managed to hear myself think.
Reaching the top of the escalator to wait for the plane, a variation of smells overwhelmed my nose. Coffee, pizza, takeaways. It was nothing like I’ve seen before. Zooming in to what I looked like was a cake store I discovered my favourite thing to eat. Double chocolate muffins. Sauntering over to the shop with the eagerness to eat everything in there. I watched a baker swirl the chocolate icing carefully around the fluffy chocolate sponge. Her eyes locked on the cake with nothing more than sheer concentration. Each cake was tastefully designed. Before I could reach my hand in my pocket to satisfy my needs, I felt a vigorous tug on my left leg. My sister. It was time to board the plane.
Anxiously progressing to the airplane through the jet bridge, a sudden feeling of nausea shocked me. I took the final...
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