The Flight

• Miranda Chilver, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2012

I stand still and quiet, peering out the large window. Light snow is falling on the earth, and I watch as a large plane rolls onto the runway and speeds forward. Faster and faster it goes, until soon I see it lift up from the ground and soar through the sky. Somewhere far away, I hear a voice speaking over an intercom. Soon enough, people all around begin standing up, grabbing their things, and heading towards the gate. I watch as they line up to board a plane preparing to fly them thousands of miles over the ocean, ready to take them away. Sixteen hours to a new land. My new home.
Leading up to this flight, my younger self had experienced little in the way of change. I had always lived in the same house, always gone to school with the same friends. I always spent my snowy Christmases with the same family, repeating the same traditions, playing the same games. But now, minutes before my flight, everything seemed to be changing at once. Everything would soon be different.
Part of me was still excited; this could be a brand new beginning. But most of me held back. I didn’t want to make new friends, didn’t want to live with family I hardly knew. I didn’t want to go to a new school, live in a new house, adapt to a new climate. I wanted what I had always known to remain forever. Instead, it was being ripped away from me. I was being thrown into a whirlwind of new experiences, people, places and traditions. For some this is but a thrill, but for me, it was a hurricane waiting to tear me apart. My excitement was overcome with fear; I couldn’t escape.
I remember getting on that flight with tears in my eyes, wishing I could run off the plane, go back home. I remember the first few days in a new country, the fear of replacing friendships. I didn’t want to let go of the old and simply enjoy what I had. I tried to block out the world through music. But over time, my shell wore away. As I began making friends, I started to realise that it wasn’t about what I had left behind, but what I had now.
Years passed, but I didn’t just get by. I thrived. I learned to embrace the changes I experienced. I learned I could be as happy or down as I wanted, it was all up to me. It all depended on my perspective. Looking back three years later, I understand how much I needed to make that journey. I didn’t just move countries. It wasn’t just my address that changed. It was my whole outlook on life. Through such a difficult journey I was able to grow in a way I wouldn’t have easily done otherwise. I’ve come far, but it’s not over. I’m only on the runway, but I’m speeding forward, soon to touch the sky.