The Trip of My Life | Teen Ink

The Trip of My Life

May 24, 2010
By Petite SILVER, Seymour, Indiana
Petite SILVER, Seymour, Indiana
7 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Sam approached the ticket counter hesitantly and asked for a ticket to New York City. She received her ticket and stepped on a train. Her shoulders swayed back and forth while she sat on her seat. She winced, wondering about what to do, how to live, and where to go. Drowsiness overcame her before she could think any further.

A few hours later, Sam rubbed her eyes and found herself in disarray. She patted down her curly hair and readjusted her glasses. She gazed down at her shirt, crumpled up from her brief nap. A shadow cast over her, and Sam froze. Her back stung like it was pierced by her parents' deadly glare. Deep inside, she knew it was impossible to encounter her parents, but she shivered at the thought. She finally looked up, and saw a young man in a crisp white shirt tapping on her shoulder, frowning in concern.

"Are you alright?" the man asked in a deep voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," Sam mumbled.

The man seemed unsatisfied with her answer, and Sam suddently felt nervous.

"Aren't you supposed to be with an adult? It's eleven o'clock, you know," the man stared at her quizzically.

"Actually, I'm heading to New York City, which is where my parents live."

Sam's face reddened behind her thick glasses. The man noticed, but quickly changed the subject.

"So, are you interested in music?" pointing at her CDs scattered across the seat next to her.

Sam nodded, "I love to sing, and I want to be a singer one day. My parents are against it,though."

"Could you sing a song?"

Sam's eyes scanned the rest of the train. The only person she found was an old lady dozing off in the back row.

"Sure," Sam replied.

She rang out her voice out of her throat. The man's eyebrows shot up. Her voice was like an angel's - delicate, soft, and gentle - and she mastered it perfectly. When she finished, the man applauded her. Sam blushed; she rarely sang in front of others.

"How old are you?" the man inquired.

"Excuse me?" Sam stared at him blankly, but the man continued.

"My name is Chuck Thomas, and I work for a record company," he stated as he hald out a business card.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in a resord deal."



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