I wake up the morning of my flight at 5:30 with my alarm blaring throughout the room. I went over to open the window in my small New York apartment. This was it, the day I leave this town. Let me introduce myself, I am Isra. My name comes from Palestine and it means nocturnal journey.  My parents always wanted me to not live how they did, they have always lived in Palestine. So when I was 16 they sent me to America to live a new life, we still keep in contact and I lived with one of my friends that I met after I came in through New York since my family had enough money to get me to America and to eat. Last night when I packed my bags I got flashbacks to when I got to America. 16 year old me with a black hijab in my skinny jeans and sweatshirt since I knew it would be cold. I walked around for a while until this small blonde hair girl called out to me from a playground. 

“Hey, Im Lily! Are you ok? Where are your parents?” she shouts from the park as I walk by. 

“I-I-I’m Isra. They are not here. I don’t have a place to stay, I’m looking for one.” My english wasn’t very good back then. As I put on my black Hijab, I started to listen to the street below me for the last time. Construction workers redoing the sidewalk, cars honking, people screaming at others for getting in their way. 

I haven’t left New York since I’ve gotten here, which was 5 years ago. The grey and crowded America I knew turned brighter. I had to learn fast to weave through people. The buildings were tall and they were all around the same color. I was a student and a worker, I needed to move to fulfill my parents' wishes for me to travel. As I get my makeup on, I hear a knock on the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up to my apartment. My best friend Lily came over to take me to the airport. Even though I have only known her for 5 years I think of her as a sister to me since she was always there for me. Even when I barely knew her, her family took me in and helped raise me. They treated me as if I was their own daughter. I loved them as if they were my own parents since they did help raise me and teach me the ropes of America. They protected me through a hard time in my life. “Hey~, mom and dad are downstairs because they wanted to take you to the airport so they can say goodbye”

 “ok I’ll be there in a minute” This was it, it was time for me to leave. 

 I remember walking up my apartment stairs 5 years ago with Isra after I met her as she walked past the playground I was at. I talked her ear off which she probably didn’t pay attention to. As I opened the door my parents were surprised to see Isra right next to me looking scared. 

They started questioning “Lily, Who is this? Is she your new friend? Do her parents know she is here? We are going to call your parents, what is their number?”

I tried to tell my parents to chill out and to explain the situation. But, Isra had a calm-quiet voice “I-I-I‘m Isra, She is my new friend, My parents know I am in America, Yes, But they don’t know my exact coordinates, My parents are in Palestine. They most likely won't answer since they are asleep, You can try if you want.” 

Her accent was so prominent and beautiful I knew they would love her. “Mom, Dad, Isra doesn't have a place to stay. Can she live here with us?” Walking down the stairs with her stuff, We put it in the car next to mine. When we got to the airport gate we said our final goodbyes. I have never left the states without my parents. My heart filled with excitement and fear, I'm glad I could experience this with her. Like I got to experience her first time in America. 

After we landed in Palestine, I rushed Lily out of the plane so I could go see my parents. As we came up to my old house, I saw it was empty. There were no forget -me-not’s in the yard; they morphed into poppies. My parent’s white house wass now beige. We went up to the door and this couple I have never seen before answered the door. We talked for a bit and they informed me that my parents had moved out of Palestine to Europe. So they sent me to America to travel and get experience for them to move?!? They haven't left the Palestine nation in their lives and after they sent me they decided to leave?!? What if they dont want me to find- 

Lily disrupts my thoughts. “Here's the game plan: what if we stay here for a week, you can show me around and while we are here we can try to figure out where your parents are.” 

“Ok.” I know she can tell there was stuff on my mind, but she doesn't want to say anything.

It was so fun, we met up with people that I knew before I moved, and we got to check out my favorite hangouts before I moved. When we got to Europe we got croissants from Paris, saw Stonehenge in London, the Great Wall of China, Tokyo, Japan. No one knew where my parents went. We decided to go back to Palestine where my parents were originally from. We talked to my mom's friends to see if she told them anything about where they were. She ignored my questions and eagerly asked “ Did you travel the world?” 

“ I did but-” 

She cut me off. “Ok so your parents are right over here.” 

Lily was the first one to stand up to follow my mom’s friend out the door. I was hesitant because after all this time they were here. They never left. Why would people tell me they left? 

We went to my mother’s grey house that she had always dreamed of owning. The door seemed heavy from the deep croak as it slowly opened. My mother opened the door; she seemed happy to see me. I just couldn't stop thinking about them lying to me about leaving Palestine. She invited us into the living room where my father was reading. My mother stood behind my father to get his attention. 

Lily went up to both of them to introduce herself. “Hello, my name is Lily. I am Isra’s friend and was her sister figure for the past 5 years” 

“Hello, I’m her father and this is her mother. Thank you for taking care of my daughter.” 

“Why did you tell people to tell me you left when really you were here this whole time?” I was trying to hold back tears

“We wanted to make sure you traveled the world and we didn't know any other way to make sure you did,” my mother said, soft but powerful.

To some degree I understand that, but why lie about it? If they told me they wanted me to travel and they would always be there, I would have been more accepting. But, they lied; I know I can’t stay mad at them. We started to catch up by sharing stories from the past 5 years, even though I still don't agree with their methods of parenting, right now I am just glad to see them.