Myles (Completed)

6: Take Off

Monet DaSilva

I walked through the crowded airport, grabbing my luggage and trying to navigate my way through the large groups of people that seemed to be getting away for spring break as well. Everyone was either coupled up or grouped up; bringing attention to the fact that I was here alone.

I quickly slipped into a washroom, bumping into someone on my way in. "I'm so sorry!" I said, and the girl sucked her teeth before brushing past me.

I sighed, "What the hell was I thinking..." I coached myself in the airport washroom, staring in the mirror at myself. I paced back and forth, trying to calm my nerves. People came in and out of the washroom, giving me the side eye but I ignored them and focussed on trying to stop myself from the anxiety attack that I was on the brink of.

I had just made it to my layover in North Carolina and I was already, ready to get back on a returning flight back to Texas. I felt as though, I could've died up in the air. My flight here was horrible, with the most turbulence I had ever experienced; not to mention that they were speaking about the flight to Miami possibly being delayed due to the thunder storm that we were in the midst of. This was a sign from God that I shouldn't be here, I just knew it.

"Is everything alright?" a lady dressed in her security uniform asked, walking up to me, behind her stood another security guard that kept her distance. I snapped out of my trance and looked over to her; forcing a smile.

"Yes, I'm alright. Thanks for asking." I could tell by her facial expression that she didn't exactly care about how I was doing, but by the way she held onto her baton by her side, someone must've sent her over here.

"Ma'am, do you mind grabbing your suitcase and following me into the screening area?"

"Uh, sure? May I ask why?"

"We'll explain everything when we get there, c'mon sweetie." She gestured for me to walk before her and I did, stepping out of the washroom and following the other guard that held the way. I could hear the whispers of people watching me and commenting; trying to figure out what was going on. Shoot; I too, was trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

We made it over to the screening area and I was asked to place my luggage atop of a table, while the border security placed a pair of blue latex gloves on. I did as I was told, and the security zipped it open and began searching through my clothes.

"May I ask why I'm being searched?"

"A red flag was raised, suspicious behaviour in the washroom."

"Suspicious?" I raised my brow, "I was trying to calm my nerves. I'm not used to flying, especially not alone." The guard nodded, but I knew she didn't believe a word I was saying. I folded my arms and shook my head, just my damn luck.

I had called my dad and of course he made sure I was calm throughout the whole process, because God knows I was steaming. They had no reason to be going to the extent that they were going when it came to someone like me.

45 minutes later they were finished ruining my perfectly folded and organized clothes, I was told to put them back in my suitcase. I did just that, then went through another thorough body search in the back office; of course, they found nothing. I was more than annoyed at this point and hungry. The supervisor had to come over to me and apologize as well as explain that they were just doing their job. I wasn't a threat, but I let it go because I realized they were trying to be safe than sorry.

"Dad, I'll call you back later."

"Okay sweetie, let me know when you land."

"I will." I hung up rolled my suitcase back into the waiting area and ignored the glares that I was getting. I hated attention; unless it had to do with me on the track, so this kind of attention... made my skin crawl. I pulled my sunglasses back on, to hide my face.