Protected Abroad [AmazingPhil / Danisnotonfire]

Six: Ticket

When I opened my eyes, I was not where I expected to be. It was night, the streetlights passed over us as we drove underneath, and there were only a few lone cars on the road besides us. I was on the passenger side of the police vehicle, along with my good friend Mr. Miller driving me. I looked to the side mirror, curious of my surroundings, and found another car similar, with a man and woman in uniform. 

"Chief wanted to make sure that you were very safe before you boarded your plane." Todd said, noticing that I was awake from my sleep. "We tried to wake you up nicely, but you wouldn't wake, so we carried you." This made me feel bad, like a child that needed coddled. 

"I can take care of myself. Why didn't you just use more force?" 

"Because you've been through a lot, and we figured we could let you sleep." We were now passing a sign reading "Tuskegee Airport" and turned into the drive. From the outside it didn't look like much, but it was far from that. It was quite large once you were inside, enough that you could get lost if you didn't know your way around. 

I had never flown before. I didn't have a clue what it was like or if I would love it or hate it. This brought to mind how I was to cross the ocean and land in a new country foreign to me. I needed a passport, didn't I? But I didn't have one, I had never thought about receiving one in all of my years. I asked Todd about this topic. 

"No worries. We got you one. Hope you don't mind that we just used your school picture."

"That's fine." I didn't really adore how I looked. My only attribute I can think of is my long legs, which are skinny and klutzy. My hair was long, almost reaching my waist. I hadn't gotten a hair cut in years so that is the result. I've been told its a deep mahogany colour, but all I see is brown. My eyes are a green, a green that I've always wanted someone to compliment on, but they haven't. I was on the skinny side, due to my choice of lifestyle, as well as the fact that I wasn't the richest girl. I was tall. That's all there was to it. Sometimes I hated it, sometimes I loved it. 

The cars pulled up to the drop off zone, or so it says by the signs that surround the area. I got out, and immediately Mr. Miller was at the trunk picking up a suitcase. The other police car stopped, and out came the male of the pair. Todd set the bright red suitcase next to me, along with my single backpack, which I assumed was to be my carry-on. Todd went back to the car, with the other auto following him as well, they left to get a parking spot, or so I guessed. 

I stood there with the officer that I didn't know. "C'mon Miss Beckett, let's go get you your ticket." He led me into the building. He seemed to know where he was going because he didn't have to look around to know where the ticket counters were. We waited in line, but there were only two other people in front of us. When it was our turn, the officer did all the talking, and I mentally thanked him many times. 

I tried to pay attention to the conversation, but I was much more interested in people watching. There were quite a few people wandering, and sleeping in chairs waiting for their planes. People are always interesting to watch, the way they dress, move, and act. You can tell many qualities about a person on just those particular things. I wondered what people thought of me when they look upon the sad state I'm in.

I was awakened out of my daydreaming, and handed my one way ticket, and passport. It was odd. I was leaving, but for how long? What was I going to do after I was free from being a minor? Was I ever going to return to the United States? Who knows... Maybe I could enjoy Britain and stay. 

The officer and I headed over to the gate I am supposed to wait at. By this time, Todd and the female officer had found us. We sat together on the benches underneath the gate number thirteen. I took a seat first and the trio dressed in uniform surrounded me in the seats. I sighed, not sure what make of the situation. 

I studied my ticket. It included the information of departure time and  estimated arrival time. My eyes wouldn't leaves the letters that formed the word "London, Britain." Butterflies in my stomach started to fly nonstop. What kind of person was this 'Phillip Lester'? How did he act, dress, and move? If he lived alone... Would it just be me and him?  Does he know all about my situation? I decided go give up on my thoughts and turned to my book for entertainment.