Dlin - Dlon.
"Last call for the Marconi family", a woman's voice rings in my ears as I find myself lying on the plastic chairs in the airport waiting room.
As soon as I wake up, I look at the board at the top where the flights are marked, I observe the time, it is 19.58, and our flight is leaving at 20. Lightning I look at the members of my family, who sleep worse than one hibernating raccoon's family.
“Hey! Hey! Wake up mom! Daddy wake up! Sarah! "
They all open their eyes one at a time. Dad Carl is the first to realize the unfortunate situation. With an energetic gesture he shakes Mother Betty's shoulder, while he nervously begins to load her suitcases all on her big shoulders.
"Only hand baggage is allowed on the plane", the airport operator tells us, while I watch dad lean the weights on the conveyor belt for X-ray checks with difficulty. Not bad. Inside my backpack there is everything you need to endure what will be the long flight that connects Rome with New York. Nine hours and 7000 kilometers from my home.
"Imagine how many people have passed by here ..." I communicate to my sister Sarah, just to resolve the anxiety of haste.
"What are you saying Annah ..." she replies. "Say something sensible every now and then!" she tells me sternly, while she gives me a dirty look.
"Miss must also remove her belt" says the second airport operator, turning to my sister pointing with her index finger.
"Of course you seem to like it," my sister replies ironically, while she grins on her face.
As Sarah undresses I notice that she is annoyed. The boy who is in uniform, impaled on the other side of the conveyor roller stares at her carefully.
"It's our job ... Don't be angry." The boy opens his arms and immediately looks at the watch on his wrist, indicating the direction of boarding. "Ok you can pass ... hurry up and have a good trip!" She communicates with us with a grin typical of an arrogant person.
"What an asshole!" Sarah exclaims as she dresses with a pout on her face.
“Sarah CALM” mum Betty thunders as she finishes settling down. "Don't be the usual rebel ..."
When we arrive on the plane there is a hostess who checks our documents.
"Ok it's all right you can pass" she tells us.
"Seats 101,102,103,104" she continues immediately after.
Another airport operator helps us sit in our seats.
Take off! Long last. We made it. Sigh. 4-3-2-1- Go! The plane leaves, then leaves the ground. I feel a void. It's like a ride-like feeling when you fall down. I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them again I realize that the plane is in flight.
From above I can observe the lights of the Colosseum. There is a crossing of bright lines and points. Streets and traffic lights, lampposts. I try to find the way to my house. Or better. My former home.
At this point in the journey it is only a small straight line of light. The network of lights gradually becomes more complex and intricate, until it disappears.
I look out the porthole, only the wing of the plane and the engines can be seen. It's all dark. My sister Sarah is immersed in reading a novel with the cover of a shirtless guy next to a beautiful girl. The title is "Bad Boy, I'm Your Slave". She has always liked that kind of strong novels. I, on the other hand, love music. I turn my backpack and grab my Ipod. Earphones in the ears and volume at the highest level.
A few hours have passed since our departure.
Dad and Mom are awake. Who knows what they will be thinking about.
Maybe to the new house. I saw it in the photos and it is gorgeous. My house in Rome was also beautiful. From the balcony there was a white wooden window that overlooked the monument of the Colosseum, the famous amphitheater where the Roman Gladiators fought each other in deadly wars before Emperor Caesar.
Whenever I was bored or thoughtful I would look out there and watch fleets of tourists go everywhere. Full restaurants. Noisy clubs and pubs with the music that I like. I thought about how time changes things. I look at my watch and it is close to arrival. I remember that once ashore I will have to notify Francis, my best friend who I left in Italy, to let her know that I have arrived at my destination.
“Welcome to New York” the clear and distinct voice of the commander informs us of our arrival, which triggers a general applause from all the passengers on board our plane. People hurry to the exit.
The doors open and we go down. We are dedicated to the recovery of baggage that does not appear immediately. I see my mother getting impatient. After a few seconds we see them appear behind the conveyor roller.
"Finally" exclaims Sarah angrily, and at this point we go towards the exit.
A middle-aged man with a yellow sign is waiting for us at the terminal
around the neck with our name written on it: Marconi family. Along with him there are many other tourist guides with other signs and other strange names. People come to New York from all over the world. As the flow of people leaves in small groups, they leave, sometimes by taxi, as in our case, or by some bus. Each with the same goal, but with a different purpose. This thought triggers in me the memory of having to warn my best friend Francis that by now she will surely be wondering where I am and what I am doing, like a good curious one, so I send him a message from my smartphone, but then I change idea and decide to send her a voice message.
“Hi Francis, I've arrived! Everything is so magnificent here! WOW! I'm so excited! Now we are going to the new house, I don't understand anything anymore believe me. My heart is beating fast. New York is a beautiful city! I am very happy with this choice of my parents ... "
After 2 seconds she answers me.
“Wow Annah! I am so happy for you! Please keep me updated on all the details! Especially on the beautiful and very rich guys who say they are in New York! Don't disappoint me and get busy! "
My message: "I love you Bitch :
"
