An Extraordinary Life

My Life Has Been Saved

London, England. August 31st, 1982

Isabella had never been on a plane before, let alone on an international flight. You can imagine her shock when she was seated in first class. She knew it wasn't an act of her aunt and uncle, but rather the 31-year-old British woman she was now under guardianship of.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are to prepare for landing very shortly," announced a flight attendant with a quintessential English accent. "To help assist us, we ask that you please put your seats in an upright position, and ensure your trays are flipped upwards. We also ask that you please put away your..."

Isabella began to tune the announcement out, and fidgeted with the lanyard around her neck which served to alert staff that she was under the age of sixteen and flying alone. Her hands shook slightly as she then buckled her seatbelt, not at all afraid of the landing for all the usual reasons. In an act of self-preservation, she refused to let herself think of anyone in London beyond Mary Austin.

Isabella had noticed that Gina and Tom hadn't mentioned Freddie a single time. This was cause for alarm. Isabella was incredibly sensitive and observed everything. To her, not mentioning the man who actually lived in and owned the house she'd be moving into was as if they knew something she did not. Something not worth mentioning.

Just lay low, and act like everything is fine, Isabella reminded herself as the plane began to descend, a repetitive mantra in her head. Smile, be grateful. The faster you convince her you're happy, the quicker you get to go home...

The plane jolted her around for a few seconds as its wheels touched the ground. Isabella had expected to see rain and an overcast sky out her window, as all she'd ever heard was how rainy London was. The fact that it was sunny outside made her situation feel even more surreal.

Isabella stood up, and before she could attempt to take her purple backpack out of the overhead compartment, a middle-aged man sitting across from her grabbed it.

"I'll take that for you, young lady," He smiled cheerfully, a large gap between his pearly white teeth. "There you go."

"Thanks," Isabella squeaked, remembering her manners despite having to take a moment to find her voice.

Right outside the plane exit door was a British Airways staff member waiting for Isabella and a few other under sixteen's who had flown on the plane too. She was a young woman, and Isabella mused that she couldn't have been any older than twenty.

"Name, please?"

"Isabella Johnson."

"That's lovely," she replied, writing something down on her notepad. "Thank you."

You won't be bored with the details of how Isabella was taken through border patrol on a six-month tourist visa and then through customs and then baggage claim. Isabella could barely fill a large suitcase with her things, as everything she had previously owned was lost to the fire. Her aunt and uncle were slightly wealthier than her own parents were, but not by too much.

"Now that you all have your luggage," the staff member stated, looking at Isabella and the other group of kids. "I'm going to bring you out to a designated area where those who are picking you up have been told to stand. If you don't see your guardian, that's alright, I'll be here until you're seen off safely. Just please let me know when you do see them so I can confirm their identification before you leave."

Isabella ran a hand nervously through her hair. She was absolutely exhausted, the red-eye flight having taken more energy out of her than she even thought she had in her. The airline had served macaroni and cheese with mint, a combination that even her un-fussy pallet could not stomach. She also was too nervous to get up to pee, so she had barely drunk any water.