So here I was, waiting for the plane to take off. I didn't even know why I was here; spending the following 6 months in London didn't seem as interesting as staying home, with my friends, my things, my home. But, you know how it works...Mum says it, I do it. Mum shouts it, I do it. And if she doesn't say anything I’ll do it just in case. You don't want to argue with mom. Better not.
The sound of the plane machines start doing the weirdest sound ever and we take off. 13 hours left to arrive, sitting next to a fat man who does nothing but snort and ask for a glass of Whisky every 18 minutes.
I have never been to England, neither to an exchange program...yeah I was a little scared... But when you are going to stay half a year an ocean Atlantic away from home, being 16 and not even knowing the family name of the house you're staying just because mom wants it 'to be a secret' you'd be scared as well. Only because she wants me the whole trip to learn new things. "the world teaches you more than school" Okay mother, whatever...So, the trip started five? hours ago and I have already learnt something. Portuguese...because this stupid plane only have subtitles in Portuguese and don't know why.
So, just because I didn't want to hear the fat man and his way to musicalize my way, I decided to watch some movies, great idea until you realise that you know how to speak German, french and spanish but none of those options exists in the plane movies menu. Screw it.
The night came, still being on the plane and having already watched 3 movies in Portuguese, guessed that was time to sleep, knowing that when I woke up I would be getting off the plane ready to breath England air for the first time in my life.
I woke up to see that the fat man was no longer sitting next to me, but torturing an old lady in the seats behind me. I gazed the tiny map -that one that shows where we are while we are on the plane and the time left to arrive- to see that there were 16 minutes left to land. Finally. I put my things together in the worst way possible on Earth and got ready. Exactly 19 minutes later I was getting off the plane ready to face british people.
Looking for someone holding a paper with my name wasn't as hard as I thought; there was a young lady, that must be around 37 and besides her a girl that seemed in her early twenties, both holding a white paper with big grey later saying ' Lucy Stewart'. I walked to them slowly, and a little bit scared maybe?
'Hi' I said really, really slow. 'I'm Lucy'
The woman was with the biggest smile on her face while the other girl was with a really sleepy face, appropriate to being at 6am at an airport.
'Welcome, Lucy!!!' she said almost shouting. 'I'm Anne, and this is Gemma; I'm sure your mother talked to you about us and that you'll be staying home till January, right?'
'Ehm, yeah she mentioned something'. I wasn't going to explain the whole situation about Mum and her creepiness. Not now.
She offered help with my things and we leaded out of the airport.
The trip to their house wasn't as long as I thought, even being as tired as I was, It didn't last more than 15 minutes or less.
It was a big house, reminded me of a typical english-movie houses and was full of expensive things. It was the cleanest house I've seen so far in my whole life. First she showed me where I was going to sleep. A little but very pretty room, with a big window and balcony. Then, after showing me the house, she explained me my timetables, that I was starting school the following day at 8am, and related but also irrelevant stuff.
I took my time to tide all my things up and rest a bit, I was so tired and it was pretty hard to keep my eyes still open..
Without realising, the whole day passed by and around half past seven we had dinner with Gemma, Anne and Robin who is Anne's husband slash boyfriend. When it was a proper time to go to sleep, I said my goodbyes and went up my room. After 7 minutes of analysing my life situation at that moment, I fall asleep.