Under The CityLights

airport : 1

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飛機

fēi jī : aeroplane

                I let out a monstrous yawn, my ears popping in the process.

I blinked away the tears whilst my ears adjusted to the soft buzz of the airport. It was like I was part of this moving world now. I could hear the wheels of luggages being rolled across the shiny linoleum tiles, the rapid chinese being traded throughout conversations, and generally, felt more awake. I looked around the rather familiar airport taking in the high ceiling, bright lights, little side shops and the family mart (you were bound to find them everywhere here). 

This was Shanghai International Airport.

I looked down at my little luggage spinning it round and round, watching the colours blur together while my thoughts drifted.

What was this..?

My seventh... or eighth... time I'd come to China for a "holiday".

Now I say "holiday", because let's be real here, who calls being holed up at your grandparents apartment pretty much everyday, forced to do homework, a holiday. When I think of a holiday, the first thing that comes to mind, is nature. Trees, mountains and rolling hills, fresh air, a big crowdless area to roam around; a place nice and quiet, and relaxing.

But I guess that didn't fall under other people's definition of a holiday.

Let me backtrack a little. Once upon a time for small 7 year old me (who had no expectations put on her, or if there were, she clearly did not see any reason to acknowledge them), it was an exciting time of discovering how many chairs and tables and pieces of furniture I could wiggle myself under, ultimately scaring my brother, but 8 years later... not so much. Moreover, my brother wouldn't even be here this year, this meant no one to annoy the hell out of... or babble with.

Talk about hard times.

"Is the minivan here yet?"

I spun around to see a flustered looking Mama on her phone. Airports tended to make people like that. The flight had been tedious with no good movies to immerse myself in, and not so great food either, both, a terrible combination for a 10 hour flight.

At least the plane stewards were friendly, I thought to myself. 

Listening in to the call, I concluded that she was talking to her little brother, Uncle Long Long.

Well, his actual name was Louis, but Uncle Long Long was the nick name we'd given him when my brother and I were little and it'd stayed. Here's a quick rundown of pretty much his life. A self proclaimed skater... although I was never actually around to see this talent of his. He was 41 years of age, wife-less, girlfriend-less, and the only permanent, or as permanent as it gets, female in his life, was his mother. He was an honest man, from what I remember, and was very dedicated to looking after his mother, since Ma was overseas. But the best thing about him, were his hoodies— big, oversized and hella comfy.

Every year he organised our transport from the airport to our residence for the next five weeks. This residence would be the home to Uncle Louis which he shared with his parents... still.

An unconscious shudder ran through me. Grandparents. More so, my Grandma. Just the thought of spending every living, breathing minute of the next 5 weeks under the watchful eyes of hers... my back tingled (and not in the good way).

"We have to go to the carpark, Madison. Look out for a white minivan," Mama said then checked her phone and recited the car plate to me.

It left my brain as soon as it entered.

We both pushed our luggage trolleys to the sliding doors, where... two police officers guarded them? I squinted a little, granted my eyesight wasn't 20/20, but never once in my many years of coming to China had I seen police officers guarding doors to the carpark of an airport. On a second glance, there were policemen present at other exits too. 

Strange.

A minivan-like car pulled up outside the sliding door and we both squinted to see the plate.

"Not that one, Madison.

I mumbled some sort of reply, another yawn threatening to burst out of me.

Several vehicles later, a van screeched to a halt in front of us and a stout-looking man came out to greet us. Ma asked the man to help load all 6 of our heavy luggages into his van, me giving a helping hand while Ma just stood and instructed. Classic move. 

He grunted something about heavy luggages and not getting paid enough for this job, or at least that's what I translated.

Many physically-exerting-moments later, the rear door of the van finally slammed shut the loud bang echoing throughout the carpark. Wincing, I climbed into the van.

It reeked of cigarettes.

I coughed.

"Stinky stinky." Commented Mama, before she rattled of the address to the driver.

The airport led out onto a road bridge and I remembered seeing these bridge structures each year, recalling how they weaved over and under other bridges creating a swirl of some sort. It was nice to see some things not changing.

The world flew by out the windows. The empty grey sky stretching till forever, dusty red railings running along the bridges, grey sidewalks dotted with people, the change of view transitioned by a blur opened up another splotch of grey. Another highway. 

The lull of the bumpy ride and grey stained eyelids, I gradually nodded off.

A/N: first chapter out and edited by the lovely reddawnfox . what do you guys think? stay pumped for more wooo