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Moving to the Moon
The excitement of the situation is replaced by nerves that wash over me. What were they going to think of me? I’ve felt all of these things before, but it seems like I never get over it. I’ve been moving around my whole life, and this is just like all the other times. This is at least what I keep telling myself. I look over to my little sister who has finally closed her eyes. She has been crying ever since our flight took off. I know what she feels like. Even though we’ve been through this before there is definitely something different about it. The only problem is that where not moving down the street or across town or on the other side of the country. I shake the thoughts out of my head and look out the window. I’ve never seen stars ever look like they do here. They reminded me of how the stars looked on the highway in South Carolina. The only difference is at these were 100 times multiplied.
“Would you like something to drink,” said the flight attendant, knocking me out of my train of thought. I shook my head and went back to gazing at the stars. My first year of high school would be hard enough not to mention being in a whole new school. Would they even speak the same language as me? What about soccer? What was I going to do without soccer? These were the questions that were running through my head. The plane touched ground or whatever they called ground there. I nudged the little girl who looked dead to the world. She yawned, stretched and tried to stand up not realizing that she still had a seatbelt on. I laughed without thinking and then realized what was going on. There was a lot of tension in the air, and I could tell how nervous everyone was. This did not help my nerves. I took my bag out of the overhead compartment with trembling fingers. I put on my new air masked on and helped my sister. I stepped out of the plane and onto the ground. I then looked around at my surroundings. I was on the moon.
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