Trip to Paradise

Ch. 1: Somewhere I Could Breathe

My name is Elise.

Most people call me Ela.

For the past few months, I had forgotten what it felt like to wake up and actually look forward to the day. Every morning seemed the same. My alarm would ring, I would reach for my phone, and before I even got out of bed, I would already have messages waiting for me. Work messages. Family messages. Things I needed to remember. Things I needed to fix. Things that could not wait.

I used to think being busy meant I was doing well.

I used to think that if I kept working hard, everything would eventually become better.

But somewhere between one busy day and another, I stopped enjoying my life.

I did not notice it at first.

It happened slowly.

I stopped going out unless I had to. I stopped taking pictures just because something looked beautiful. I stopped sitting outside with a cup of coffee and watching the world pass by. Even the things I once loved started to feel like tasks.

I was tired.

Not just physically tired.

I was tired in a way that sleep could not fix.

That morning, I sat alone near a large airport window, watching airplanes move across the runway. My suitcase stood beside my chair, and my backpack rested on my lap. Around me, people were talking, laughing, eating, checking their phones, and rushing from one place to another.

I simply sat there.

For once, I was not rushing.

I looked through the glass window.

An airplane was slowly moving across the runway. Its white body reflected the morning light. I followed it with my eyes until it disappeared behind another building.

I took a slow breath.

I still could not believe I was actually doing this.

I was going to the United Kingdom.

I was going to London.

Alone.

I looked down at my boarding pass again.

LONDON — HEATHROW

I smiled slightly.

"London," I whispered to myself, feeling both nervous and excited.

It was only one word, but it carried so many feelings.

Excitement.

Fear.

Hope.

And maybe a little sadness.

I had dreamed about visiting London for years. I had seen pictures of its streets, old buildings, bridges, parks, and beautiful places. I had watched videos of people walking around the city with coffee in their hands while buses passed behind them.

But every time I thought about going, something stopped me.

Work.

Money.

Responsibilities.

Fear.

There was always a reason to wait.

Maybe next year.

Maybe when work becomes easier.

Maybe when I have enough money.