“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Seattle. We have certainly enjoyed having you on board today, we hope to see you again soon, and thanks again for flying Alaska Airlines.” Cheers the young, chipper flight attendant while passengers frantically start vacating the aircraft as if it will explode any time. I sigh, hoisting myself out of the uncomfortable seat in which I had the dishonor of being strapped into for a nine and a half hour direct flight from London to Seattle. After spending almost half my life in the air, you’d think it would get easier. If this all works out, I will never have to take my feet off the ground again. Once out of the airport, I step into a bright yellow taxi and tell the driver, “Mukilteo Ferry Terminal please.”

“That’s a long way lady. You sure you want to go that far?” he questions, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

“Don’t worry, I can pay for it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” I counter,

“Alrighty then.” He sighs, pulling away from the curb.

An hour and a half later, we pull up to the terminal.

“Thank you.” I say, paying the man, and exiting the taxi. I make my way to the ferry and purchase a one way, walk-on passenger ticket.
After a grand total of 12 hours of flying, driving, boating, and bussing, I finally reach my destination. I reach into my pocket and take out a small piece of notebook paper with a single address written on it.

5729 Shokowakan Way
Clinton, WA 98236

Alone, I start my trek up the long, winding gravel road for what seems like miles, with acres of forest on either side. The same forests that my sister Nicole, cousin Devon, and I spent a majority of our childhood wandering and running around in. As I walk, the feeling of solitude melts away. I am home. I close my eyes, breathe in the sweet scent of damp moss and cedar, and let the memories flood my mind.

Suddenly, I hear familiar voices laughing and hollering. I open my eyes and see two small figures running through the trees smiling, having the time of their lives. I recognize them, my cousin and sister. They look about 8 and 10 years old, and ghostly pale. They run right past me, completely oblivious of my presence, and farther into the forest. Strangely, I did not feel them. I did not feel the gust of air that you feel when small children run full speed, only 3 inches away from your body. I shake the feeling off and continue walking, their voices just echoes now.

When I reach the house, my mouth is gaping open. It looks new. Fresh white paint, healthy vegetable garden, brand new basketball hoop, everything. I don’t understand, no one has been here in over 40 years, it’s been boarded up for the past 25. My thought are interrupted by the sight of my mother and aunt, in their early 40s, walking out the front door and sit at the forest green tea table on the porch. They are casually drinking tea and I can faintly hear their voices. They must be talking politics again. “This is bizarre, why am I seeing my family? And more importantly, why can’t they see me?” I wonder, glancing at my mom as I open the front door. I step in, and turn my head to see a very dusty, empty house that has not been cleaned in years. All the electrical wires are protruding from the walls, and the floor tile is cracked and loose. I blink back my tears, realizing that this is harder to see than I thought I would be. I hear the ground creaking with each step I take. I look back outside for reassurance from my mother. “God, I miss her so much.” I admit to myself and run back outside, noticing that they are no longer on the porch. In fact, there is nothing on the porch but an abundance of spider webs and slabs of wood. I frantically start looking around for them, past the now rusted, broken basketball hoop, past the empty plot of raised dirt, covered in wilted weeds. I fall to the ground weeping, finally aware that it was all in my head. A fantasy of my childhood. What I would give to be reunited with my family again, even just for a minute. I never knew how much I missed them all. I pick up my cell phone and call my daughter.

“Hi mom, look, I’m in a meeting. Can I call you back?” she whispers.

“Um, yea sure. I just wanted to tell you that I lov--” I being, standing up, only to be cut off by the dial tone on the other end. Again, I start weeping. I am completely alone. Alone in this world. Alone on this journey. So, alone, I walk back down the gravel road, away from my memories, away from my home.

I finally reach the hotel that I had booked 3 months ago, when I planned the trip. Once I get up to my room, I immediately change into clean, comfortable clothing. I strip away the paisley, maroon bedspread and lay down. I realize how tired I really am. All the traveling, emotions, and memories have taken their toll on my aging body and I slowly fall asleep.

In the middle of the night, I hear sirens, but my body is too sleep deprived and tried to move. Part of me hears a door being kicked open. I feel myself being moved. I slowly open my eyes to see blurry lights flashing, and I can faintly hear voices around me. Too tired to stay awake, I begin to fall back asleep and tumble through uncontrollable darkness.

I open my eyes, and see nothing but forest.

“Come on Haley, let’s go!” I hear my sister cheer, grabbing onto my hand and we start running through the woods with the biggest smiles on our faces. We reach the house and there, seated at the tea table is my mom and aunt, with Devon behind them with a grin that lights up his entire face. I sprint to my mother and jump into her arms. She immediately wraps her delicate arms around my body, filling me up with both happiness and warmth.

“Welcome home sweetie.” She coos.