The Terminal

I enter in silence. All I hear around me is the crying, yelling and the feet of the people passing me by, making their way to the plane. My ears ring as people beside me are pleading loved ones not to go. It’s as though they would never see each other again, in some cases, it really is goodbye for a very long time. The slow droning voice of the person behind the intercom speaks in monotone but giving clear instructions on incoming and outgoing flights. I hear my flight number and I see it presented on the board above me, my heartbeat starts to race as I’m realising I’m about to leave the place I felt comfortable in.

I hear my own feet inching towards the plane. My ears and eyes close up as if I’ve been dunked underwater. I start to feel the cold breeze that passes my face. It chills my body making me feel small and withdrawn to the big task ahead of me. I start to hear things in slow motion as I creep ever so close to the plane. It’s as though something is holding me back. Is it my family, or is it my gut feeling telling me something is going to happen. I hope that I’ve made the right choice. My head is almost filled with regret but I’m almost at the gate. There’s no turning back.

I look to my left and see people crying and smiling for many reasons. I look to my right; peering through the glass of the window. The plane I saw was rocketing down the runway. I felt more nervous then, having thought of everything I’d miss out on here. A message comes over the intercom again informing the passengers of our flight very soon. I’m holding bags in both hands with a backpack strapped behind me. I feel heavy. It’s as though my bag is pulling me down, stopping me from proceeding towards the gate. Its as though it was alive pushing me towards the floor and pinning me down. The feeling subsides and I think about the future that awaits me. The past will still be here. I reach the gate nervously travelling past the guard. I am here an I’m ready. I can do this. Its my future.