Change

Just a few days ago I knew exactly what was happening in my life. I knew who my friends were, where things were going with my boyfriend, what was happening next but now…now I know none of that. I got a call from a random number but I thought nothing of it because telemarketers are as commons as pimples but that same number also called my parents. Still not too strange, they get lists of phone numbers to call so none of us noticed. The next day I’m with my boyfriend and that same number calls me. I keep ignoring it because nothing interrupts date night except for family emergencies…and breakups. Before I realized what had happened I was sitting alone in my car trying to figure out how this was a mistake because my now ex dumped me to date my best friend. I convince myself that it was a mistake and drove home. The reality of the situation hit me when I saw pictures of them on my social media and my mind went numb. There was so much hurt and pain from both of them that I couldn’t even feel. I thought I had processed through it but I kept finding those moments and memories drifting across my mind and I kept pushing them away. I thought I was okay but then our song came on and all that hurt and pain came flooding my mind overwhelming me in a sea of tears. I tried to hide it but it was impossible, I didn’t want to eat or go to school, I just wanted to stay home and hide. I kept up the charade for about a week until I had almost reached my wit's end and the tipping point was a call from that pesky number. I caved and picked up.

“Hello?” I asked feeling incredibly annoyed.

“You picked up thank goodness!” exclaimed the voice on the other end of the line.

“Well, you have only been calling me multiple times a day for a week.”

“I do apologize for that, we assumed that your family was familiar with this number considering your heritage and all.”

“And that would be?” I snapped not feeling convinced this wasn’t a prank call.

“That you and your family need to come to the airport immediately and board the next plane for Ciattello. Time is of the essence and since I’ve been trying to reach you for a week there is little time to delay. There will be plenty of time to explain once we take off,” urged the voice.

“How am I supposed to know this is legit?” my voice quivered at the thought of a way out.

“I can’t tell you anything to convince you one way or the other but I do promise you that this is not a joke. I will meet you and your family in terminal two at eight.”

“Okay,” I intonated and before I realized what I had done my fate was sealed.

I spent hours in my room like in days past but instead of thinking about him and the heartbreak I was thinking about if I really should tell my parents or if I should just go and not tell them. The time came when everyone headed out to my sisters' orchestra concert and I made my move. I grabbed the small duffel I managed to cram some clothes in, took my purse with my keys and drove to the airport. I checked with the desk for tickets and miraculously I found five for my family and me. I left four at the desk only taking my own and ventured to the gate indicated on the special slip away from my troubles. I managed my way to an empty gate on the far end of the terminal and looked at the little piece of paper again to double-check. It said I was in the right place but the only person in sight was a smartly dressed young man whom I didn’t recognize. I was turning to leave when he spoke, “Daniella?” his words pierced the air reaching my ears.

“How do you know my name?” I asked slowly, prepared to run.

“I was the one trying to call you,” he crossed over to me wearing a slightly confused look.

“My family is at my little sister’s concert,” I tried to explain but he stopped me before I could get that far.

“It’s fine. I managed to get in touch with your parents just a few hours ago, we were hoping for the whole family but considering you’re the oldest this will work just fine.”

“What will work?” I took a step back feeling skepticism grow within me. I had thought it was too good to be true.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this until we board the plane but there’s no one here so I may as well just tell you,” he drops his voice before continuing, “You are next line for the throne.” A small laugh escapes my mouth before it grows too large for its own good and I turn back towards the entrance to the airport knowing for certain this is just another practical joke to top my wonderful week off. “You think I’m joking,” he speaks trying to have authority.

I whip back around to face him, “Of course I think your joking. After the week I’ve had and the low, low tolerance for jokes I have right now, you’re one more sentence away from me calling my parents, or security, or someone and walking straight out of this terminal and down to the police station and file a restraining order claiming harassment.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” his words flew out of his mouth as he sprinted towards me grabbing my wrist.

I turned once again and pulled my wrist sharply out of his grip, “Look, I am not playing some game with you, I only came here because I used my last trust and faith on you and your random phone calls simply because you were driving me the rest of the way to insanity. This is not just some joke you can pull on people expecting them to trust you and play along. You almost convinced me to get on that plane with you,” I ran my fingers through my hair muttering to myself, “Stupid, so, so stupid. I knew better. I knew so much better. Why did I think this was a good idea? I should have just stayed home. I should have just stuck it out. What is wrong with me?” I sat on a nearby bench trying to rationalize with myself. I tried taking deep breaths but all I did was give tears another opportunity to form. I tried to wipe them away but new ones kept replacing them relentlessly. What felt like hours later arms gently enveloped my softly sobbing body and held me tight as I let what I was sure were the last of my tears. I worked myself into a sitting position realizing that too many things would have gone wrong if this was all a prank, “This isn’t a prank,” I let out softly.

“No this isn’t. I have not been joking at all. I know this is hard, but I think you have what it takes and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

“This is ridiculous but okay,” I found myself getting up and walking on to the plane and before I knew it I was here. Every day this gets easier to adjust to and every day I realize that maybe this is truly where I’m supposed to be.