by Kirsten (age 14)
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If you’ve been here all along…
I woke up with a thump.
I opened my eyes and a old lady stared at me. “Are you getting off at Littleton, Tennessee, dear?” she asked me.
“Because passengers are getting off at that stop now.”
“Oh. Well I’m getting off at Miridell.”
“Okay. Just making sure. I didn’t want you to miss your stop because you were asleep.”
The old lady walked by as well as a few other passengers.
I peeked behind me. Matthew was asleep while Emma snacked on a bag of peanuts.
I decided to waste my time by drawing. I took out my drawing pad and my pack of pencils from my carry-on bag.
I drew an oval and added some freakishly crazy blonde hair.
I drew the eyes and then added some eyebrows. I had shifted the eyebrows to make her look mad.
Can you guess what I am drawing yet?
I added a big nose, and red lips.
I gave her an orange shirt and a yellow skirt. I made her feet big and gave her these huge black flip flops.
I colored in her skin a dark green. She looked like a zombie.
I giggled at my drawing and in small letters above the person, I wrote,”THE REAL EMMA.”
“You little brat!” I heard a familiar squeaky voice from above me.
I turned around and Emma was leaning over the seat staring at the drawing.
I covered my hand over the paper. “Why are you spying on me?” I asked.
“That doesn’t even look like me. Just wait till I tell Matthew.”
“You sound like a baby,” I remarked. I made my voice sound squeaky and I copied Emma’s threat, “I’m gonna tell Matthew. Wahhh!”
Emma gave me a dirty look and then snatched the drawing out of my hands.
“I know you’re jealous of Matthew and me but you’re just going to have to get over it. Someday, he will know what kind of rude, mean little jerk you are,” she said.
“He will never like you more then me. Family comes first!” I yelled at her.
Emma rolled her eyes and then sat back down with the drawing.
I leaned over the chair and watched as Emma woke Matthew up.
He yawned and looked at the drawing. “You drew this, Emma?”
“No! Your little stupid sister did.”
I almost saw Matthew smile before he looked at me. “Is this supposed to be Emma?”
I didn’t answer and Matthew frowned. “Will you just leave her alone? She has done nothing to you!” he yelled.
“Oh my gosh. Why do you believe everything she says?” I asked.
“Because she’s my girlfriend.”
“Family comes first!” I yelled.
“She is family. And you need to just leave us alone!” he said.
I slumped back into my seat and frowned. I guess he does like Emma more than me.
Finally, we got to Miridell.
“We will be landing in just a moment,” said a guy on the intercom.
I looked out the window as the plane landed calmly on the plane track.
We skidded to a stop.
An attendant came and checked all of our tickets.
Once she was done with that, she led the rest of the passengers off the plane.
I followed Emma and Matthew silently to the luggage wheel.
We found our luggage and then walked to the main building of the airport and sat down in one of the seats provided.
“When is Aunt Marlene picking us up?” I asked.
“Mom said to call this number,” Matthew replied as he held out a piece of paper with a phone number on it.
He took out his phone from his pocket and dialed the number.
“Hi, Aunt Marlene. This is Matthew and we are waiting in the airport,” he said into the receiver.
He paused and then said, “Sure, we’ll wait.”
He hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. “She said she is on her way now. She is five minutes away.”
I played with the lace on my shirt until a short, stubby brown haired woman walked to us.
“Mackenzie!” she yelled, giving me a big bear hug, “you look so grown!”
I smiled. She ran up to Matthew and hugged him as well, cooing him like a child.
“So this must be Emma.” Aunt Marlene smiled at Emma.
“Where’s Hannah?” I asked.
“She is at the house,” she told me. “There’s no point in waiting here. Let’s go!”
We followed her out of the airport buildings and into the parking garage.
She unlocked her car while we all stuck out luggage into the trunk.
“Can I sit in the front seat?” I asked.
“Heavens no! You are only eleven.” She said it as if I had asked to buy a gun.
“But my Mom lets me sit in the front.”
“I’m not your Mom. Now don’t argue with me and sit in the backseat.”
I frowned as I got into the backseat.
“Now, Matthew or Emma can sit in the front. They are older than 13, which is the age limit,” said Aunt Marlene as she sat in the front seat.
Matthew stumbled into the passenger seat just as she finished her sentence.
She shifted the car into gear and we were off into this unknown land called Michigan.