Have A Nice Flight

• Stacey Marshall, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2010

I stared out the window of the A320 aircraft that I had boarded to take the two hour journey back home. My thoughts of my true home, the city of Melbourne, consumed me as the other passengers boarded. I would miss this place, in all its glory, but what could I do? I’m 14 years old. I have no choice about where I live. We moved to Queensland when I was six months old, and my dad’s excuse was his skin. Let’s face it, we moved here because he doesn’t want my mum to realise his true self, in which he knew her sisters would alert her of. It seems that everyone else can see the true him, just not her, which is disheartening. I continue to be consumed in the thoughts, about the quality time I’ve just spent with my cousins and family, to dispel the hurt and pain that I know I’m heading into.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything I’ve got, my friends and school included, but I wish I had more. My life isn’t what I would have thought it would be. I thought I would be happy, but I’m not. I have to put on a brave face everyday, and my life is pretty much consumed by trying to fit in. So why do I continue? Because I have to. Not for much longer though, which is good.

I’m bought back to the present by the air hostess speaking. “Good evening passengers, and welcome to Jetstar flight 446,” she’s saying. “It is currently 17 degrees in Melbourne, and we’re expecting 26 degrees as we reach the Gold Coast Airport. If you are in need of any assistance during this flight, please do not hesitate to ask myself or another crew member. Thank you for choosing to fly with Jetstar and have a nice flight.” She puts the microphone down, and goes to talk to a passenger in the front row. My last thought before we take off is, ‘ yeah, have a nice flight. A nice flight to what? A nice flight back to the hell hole that I’ve so begrudgingly called home for the last thirteen years?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’