Memoir about my trip

Andy Vo
10/09/08
Period 2
Rewritten Memoir
I wrote in my white and black marble notebook to pass the time I had while I had to wait for my flight to Atlanta. Atlanta international airport would be the first stop on my trip, out of three before I landed in St. Vincent. My mission in St. Vincent was clear, go in, meet your group, get to know the island, do a summer camp for the kids there, and go home, simple. I wrote slowly on the lined note book, distressed to the fact that I had a whole lot of summer reading to do and the fact that I just left my family for thirty-one days. I anxiously tapped my foot on the floor and continued to work on my summer work, knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to. This wasn’t the first time I was away from my family, but the second time was any much different. I still felt nervous about leaving so far away from my home. 
 When they started to call the seating zones that would go in, I placed away my notebook in my overused black backpack, which was now developing a rip on the right arm strap after a friend pulled on it. “Zone one, please proceed to board the plane,” echoed the young woman’s voice in the microphone. “Zone two and three, please proceed to board the plane,” my hands shook as I held the zone five plane ticket in my hand. I knew once I get on the plane, there was no turning back. “Zone four and five, please proceed to board the plane,” I shot up quickly from my seat, handed my ticket off, and got on the plane. On the plane I sat, while I continued to think about leaving home. I sat in a comforted blue chair nearest to the isle in the back of the plane. The T.V screens slowly swung down from above our heads to give the basic safety instructions that always made me worry. “In the unlikely event of an emergency water landing, your seat can be used as a floatation device,” somehow I knew if we made an “emergency water landing,” the idea of using my seat as a flotation device wouldn’t pop into my head.
 After landing in Atlanta I had to make a quick rush from the plane to my next plane. I was worried when I found out how long it took to get off the plane; I became even more worried when I noticed how large the airport was. It expanded across one horizontal line of terminal A to E. I was in terminal E and I need to get to terminal A. At times like these, I was glad that I chose to do distance running as a sport, it was incredibly helpful in a large airport. 
I just made it to the gate right when the called my zone. I was relieved that I made it on time, at the same time a little scared how close the plane could have left without me. I wouldn’t have known what to do if I was stuck in Atlanta. It was hard for me to imagine how my mom would act. I knew that my dad would be calm. My mom might panic realizing how far away from I already was. My next few steps into the place would take me out of the United States and into a much different life, where I feared that it will not be easy to live.