Shoving my last suitcase in the backseat of the yellow taxi, I slammed the hood down. From there, I let my worn out converse carelessly drag me towards the side door as I reluctantly pulled it open. Scooting inside, I once again pulled the door shut, sighing as I took one last glance back at my home.

My real home.

It may have been a tiny little apartment trapped in the center of the busy and loud New York City, but it was perfect. Every piece of it was filled with my childhood memories and the last few moments I got to spend with my mom and dad.

My mom and dad who are now dead.

So now, here I am, all alone being shipped off to another country to stay with my uncle. An uncle I haven’t seen in years, but since I’m only sixteen, I cant live on my own yet. Legally speaking, I’m still only a child. How wonderful.

As the car slowly pulled out from its initial parking space, the back of my eyes stung as I waved my final goodbye. Old memories flashed before my eyes as I realized I may never see my home again. Ever again. I’m going to be miles and miles away from the one place that could brighten my day in an instant. My throat choked up at the thought of leaving and I couldn’t help but let the tears fall from my eyes.

Seconds later, my pity party was interrupted by the raspy voice of the driver sitting in the front seat, “Excuse me Miss, we are heading to JFK airport. Am I correct?”

Gulping loudly, I let out a sigh again, “Yes, you are correct.”

The driver didn’t respond, he just gave me a subtle head nod and then focused back on the road in front of him.

Sniffling, I dug through my bag, which rested along side of me, and pulled out my headphones. Stuffing each plug in my ear, I let the music carry me away. I rested my head against the glass window and as I fluttered my eyes closed, the sound of Jason Mraz’s soothing voice played beautifully inside my head.

* *

Waking up, I shifted my gaze out the window, coming to the conclusion that we would be pulling up to my death sentence any minute now. Groaning, I threw my headphones back in my bag and unbuckled my seatbelt. Although we hadn’t reached the spot where I would be dropped off, we were getting close. Grudgingly, I whipped my cell phone out of my North Face pocket and unlocked the device.

(1) New Message

Predictably, the message was from Uncle Paul. As I averted my eyes towards the bright screen and tiny font, the message read:

Bree, text me when you get onto the plane safely. I’ll be waiting at Heathrow Airport for you at 5:00. Have a safe flight! Love you.

Right before I could manage to type up a quick response, we had arrived. Thanking the driver gratefully, I threw him a handful of cash and hopped out of the vehicle. After unhappily tugging my duffle bag and suitcase behind me, I managed going through security check, stopping for a quick bite and making my way to my seat in record timing.

Before the plane took off, I remembered to send Paul a quick text so he wouldn't turn into a worrying mess. Seconds later, I couldn't even process what was happening until we were up in the sky, watching the clouds pass by ever so slowly. I was so not looking forward to this 8 hour flight. Somebody shoot me.

Get ready London, here I come.