Rough, violent shakes and shoves awoke me from my already broken sleep. I always hated being up in the air about 40,000 feet, feeling like i’m in a metal death trap just so eager to happen, like a time bomb’s fuse shortening every second then destroy everyone in here. I breathed stale air in my lungs to try to calm down my jittery nerves. I’m more jumpy than a toddler, with stomach full of sugary and delicious pastries, on a crazy sugar rush, and not the good kind. I extended my cramped legs and arms making what sounded like a baby dinosaur squeal and exhaling stale air out of my lungs deeply. I always been horrible in cramped places. Well, who isn’t? Besides those crazy acrobatics who shove their medium size body into a claustrophobic, tight box. I know this 14 hour flight will pay off once I get there. London,England. Oh, I can’t explain how excited I am. I tried to battle against my facial muscles to resist the urge of planting a huge excited smile on my face, telling myself I might look like a freak if I let myself do so. After many times of people asking for more drinks, food, and for the flight attendants phone numbers, I heard the pilot say “prepare for landing.” What I did was prepare myself for the bumpy and bouncing of the landing. Violently, the plane shakes the people on the plane from the landing. I stood up and reached for the ceiling and stood on my tippy toes and stretched so hard I swear I heard a pop. I reached out for my luggage that I brought on the plane. I couldn’t wait to get off this metal death trap! I leaped out of the plane, Slipping through the slow people who just waddling their way out of the plane and airport. Meanwhile, I reach the place where I get my other luggage. I tap my foot so fast I felt like I did an extreme calf workout . I crossed my arms over my chest, and I felt my heart racing like a pack wolves running after their prey. I pace around the whole section 15 where my luggage is suppose to come out of, just to make sure I didn’t miss it. I dart my eyes looking at every luggage there is, checking other people’s luggage to make sure they didn’t get mine. Finally, I see a neon, highlighter green ribbon tied on the handle. I leap at my bag, I felt like I was crossing the finish line on a race. I raced outside, then it hit me, I stop dead in my tracks. Light snow fell ever so softly out of the winter’s night sky. So delicate, so poetic. I look up to see Big Ben, light snow covered the peaks, light from the street lamps and christmas decorations filled the city with a warm, welcoming glow. The cold crisp air pinched my cheeks and the tip of my nose. I exhale the fresh cold air and I see my breath as I do so. I hear background chatting and eager greetings from some other people being reunited with close friends and loved ones. I turn my head and look at the random people reuniting with their family, I smile at their happiness. I wonder how I will react and how my mother will react when she visits me here, now in my new home, London. I grab my bag and start walking around, not bothering to tag down a taxi. I figured I would miss all the beautiful sights if I took a taxi. I turn my head when I hear laughing and happy shouting, I see kids with their parents, friends hanging out, and couples goofing off and showing affection at the nearby ice rink. At this moment I could tell I will love going to Cambridge University here.