OH GOD I AM GOING TO DIE! The plane vibrates and shudders as we descend toward the landing strip. This is it, that's all she wrote! Good by cruel world! I feel the plane hit the tarmac and my eyes snap shut, there is a rush of voices and then total silence. I'm dead. My mom is going to freak. "Welcome to the Heathrow International air port," says a voice. I hope that's not god, because there is no way I am going to heaven. Hell will probably spit me out too. Sh*t. "You can claim your baggage at carousel number Five." I open my eyes. I wasn't quite sure what i was expecting, maybe Peter and the pearly gates, but that was not what I saw. I was still on the plane. I was also alive. Whew. "Sorry for that minor turbulence during the landing," says the intercom voice. Minor turbulence? It felt like we were going over a mine field. I get up get of the stupid plane and stare at the massive airport. I walk up to the lady at the desk and she gives me directions to the baggage claim. She is wrong. I end up in front of a coffee shop. I have to ask six more people until one of them finally gets it right. I don't even have to wait for my bag because it is the only on left. That is a pathetic sight. One bag moving around a carousel made for hundreds. I grab it and walk out the doors, which are (thankfully) directly behind me. When I get out side it's raining. I hate rain. I look around for my aunt and see a woman holding a sign that says my name. Black umbrella, navy skirt and jacket, and sensible shoes complete her out fit. This small family might just be normal. Emily shatters that thought into a million pieces than runs them over with a truck and throws them in [insert volcano of your choice]. I have never seen some many neon colours in one place. She immediately walks over and out her umbrella ( a shade of yellow so bright it rivals the light generated by a nuclear explosion) over me and guides me to the car with her mum. "Hi, my name is Emily, i like your converse, I have so may fun thing planned, wait until........" She continues as we get in there black cart bu i'm not listening. I stretch out in the back. My flight was eight hours. Eight hours of pure terror and attempting to guess how may shots of tequila the pilot had before the flight. Mabye just a little nap...........

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