Marley Jones (Chapter one):
I stared at the blue travel papers in my hand, my back hunched as I perched on the grey metal chairs in waiting area for Gate G. Sucking in a breath followed by a sigh, I sat back and pulled my left leg over my right and rested my hands on my knee-caps. I wasn't sure this was the best idea I'd ever had, I knew dead down I was running away from my problems at home but that was the best time to run; wasn't it? Janet wouldn't let it go that I'd thrown away my life by not taking the opportunity to do a scholarship in Iceland; I was a national champion at Figure Skating. I just couldn't do it, move to Iceland. Other than skating, there's nothing else there for me. I don't have family, friends of even a life. I'd be the new girl all over again and that sounded painful but I guess that's what I'm doing now; I'm going to be the new girl for a few months while I stay with my mom in a small town called Wrickenridge; I've never heard of it but apparently it's a nice town. Mom warned me everyone would know I was coming, nothing much happened there apart from some stuff that went down last year with some high school students. I tuned out when she started talking, I wasn't bothered about it. Gossiping about other people really wasn't my scene although I'm sure I'd of loved to hear about all the boys there in town, I'm so desperate to meet someone. I even thought of joining a dating site online but when it asked me to fill in my details; I freaked. How could I tell someone secretly I'm a savant looking for another savant without actually saying it? I gave up on it after a few hours of worrying I'd let someone known who doesn't like us like the Kelly's. I wouldn't want to get messed up in that kind of stuff, not after what they did to the Benedict's and vice versa.
"Vol de Paris au Colorado a atterri, serait ceux qui attendent dans la zone G s'il vous plaît bord de l'avion."
I braced myself and held my tickets tightly in my hands to my chest, I took in a deep breath; closing my eyes. I opened my eyes and stood up quickly; I grabbed my hand luggage and strode across to the line that had formed quickly. Clearly people really wanted to get their seats quickly, I put my bag strap on the edge of my shoulder, and it was quite heavy so I clenched my arm to my body to keep it from sliding down. It was carrying my sketching equipment, I figured with my window seat would feed my creativeness and I could try drawing whatever it was I could see if I could see anything at all. The cue went down slowly and soon enough I was at the front, showing my passport and letting the abnormally tall and buff flight guard check my flight plans. He handed them back and let me through, I smiled slightly trying to convince myself that this was the right thing to do. Janet and dad hadn't come with me, Janet didn't believe I was doing the right thing at all and deep down I think she felt betrayed that I was leaving her who's looked after me for the past 12 years to go and stay with a woman I hadn't seen since I was 10 simply because I was ashamed of the decisions I'd made. Dad...well I don't even know, it upset me he didn't show to say goodbye. I really hope he misses me even if I've made him angry; I'll apologise when I get home. I always do.
I walked along the tight corridor with white plastic walls till I got the cue once again; I waited patiently and moved forward quickly as the cue wasn't taking long at all. Once I was on the plane I walked right to the back and sat in the corner seat on the left hand side next to a window; it was a tight place to sit but I felt cosy and more secure. I wasn't used to flying although Janet, dad and I flew to Paris when I was 10 from Texas. My accent hadn't completely gone, it was obvious I wasn't French but I tried my best to be and I could speak fluent in both language; sometimes I speak first in French by accident because I'm used to speaking it more. Although it's surprising how many people in Paris that speak English, the art gallery I worked for were glad I could translate for them. I put my seat belt on tightly and pulled the plastic small tray table down so I could balance my sketch book on it; I took out my pastels too and pulled my Nokia C3 out of my jean front right pocket; no messages. I frowned and felt lonely deep down in my gut, I turned my phone off and dropped it into my bag. I put my bag on the seat next to me to make sure nobody else count sit down but I was prepared to move it if someone needed a seat.
I glanced out the window and the grey runway pavement; I can't wait to just get away from here.