𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 // 𝘫. 𝘣𝘰𝘯 𝘫𝘰𝘷𝘪

[ I ] New Life, New Jersey [ I ]

ᵂᴼᴿᴰˢ : 2194

☆

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Wild Is The Wind Bon Jovi

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[ November 19th, 1978 ]

My eyes stared lifelessly outside of the small, cubed window, gazing outside at the concrete paths and the tiresome, teal sky of England.

My head fell back onto the headrest of the aeroplane seat as constant chatter echoed through my ears.

"Cheer up, Y/N," A familiar voice began, "We'll have fun in New Jersey, you'll make new friends, quit being moody."

I didn't respond to my mother. I didn't have any complaints, it's just difficult saying goodbye to a country which you have lived in for your entire life. It's difficult saying goodbye to a country which has had it's army keep you and your family protected through anything and everything. It's difficult saying goodbye to a country you were so familiar with, and felt so safe in.

I wasn't worried about not being able to make friends. I know I can cope without any. It's not that bad, you know? Having no friends, it's not that bad. It's not like Hell, like many make it out to seem like. It's tranquil. Quiet. There's no drama, no pressure to hang out with them, no issues.

I find it better without friends, actually.

"I'm not being moody," I finally responded, to my mother who was putting on her headphones to watch a movie.

God knows what movie it was. It could've been anything from James Bond to Fifty Shades of Grey. Honestly? I didn't want to know what movie it was.

"I'm just going to miss England." I finished, awaiting her reaction.

"New Jersey will be better, I promise." She said.

Really? New Jersey will be better? Will it really?

I guess I'll just have to wait and find out... make the judgement myself.

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[ 9 Hours Later... ]

We landed in Newark, New Jersey, roughly eight hours later.

Back home, it'd be three in the morning. However, it was ten at night in New Jersey.

Time differences are exhausting.

My mother and I had just got in our moving van, with all our belongings in the back.

We had a half-hour drive ahead of us, from Newark to Perth Amboy.

And as my mother turned up the radio, Elvis Presley's Trouble was played.

My mum was a sucker for Elvis. Any girl with a right mind would be. He was this pleasing piece of fruit for a woman's eye. From his movements to his voice, he was a global sensation - and I never understood why.

I never understood the obsession with the man from Tupelo, Mississippi. Never.

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