For years my home had been familiar. It was always located on the corner of the street, where 7-11 and the park met. The street that my sister and I would race back and forth. But just when I could beat her, that game got old. Then it was the street that my sister and I jump-roped on. But a couple months later, it soon became the street that we left. The street that we played on. My street. And the reason we left, because Daddy said so. Said Kristine, my old sister.
At age five, I was excited. Excited to fly like the birds that roam free in the sky. I didn’t understand where the acrid smell of metal was coming from. For a whole thirteen hours, I imagined stepping off of this magical plane and seeing the Disney princesses. Funny, huh? As I rolled my Dora suitcase behind me and boarded off the plane, the thoughts of being enchanted in magic disappeared. My pink light up shoes seemed to fade in to the moldy carpeting of Sea-Tac airport.  Lines of people darted this way and that, each person having a motive, an urgent place to get to. Inside my head I thought, why are they all leaving? But alas, the monster of the name Jet Lag caught me soon.
I felt a sudden drowsiness, my darling Dora luggage no longer trailing me behind but dragging me down. Let’s go. Hurry Minsoo! The sounds of my dad urging me to pick up the pace slowly merged with the busy background noise of the flight attendants. My pink light up sneakers sent confusing flashes to my head. Each footstep, echoing in my head. “Puck, puck, puck, puck”.
Then, it happened. I just couldn’t hold it back. The remains of airplane food rushing its way up my throat, like the persistent people with planes to catch. One minute, it was in my tummy, warm and protected, the next, on the hard cold floor of the unknown airport floors. At least I wasn’t alone anymore. My vomit could understand how lost and confused I felt. Then, my mom, dad, and sister all turned back towards me. In my eyes, a pang of guilt and suffering. In my mom’s, embarrassment and worry. Worst of all, in my sister’ eyes were disgust. It seems like the food inside of her was inspired by the courage of mine. And out it came. People around us, backing away or pitching in tissues to clean everything up with. What a welcome. No Disney Princesses, no fantasies. Just vomit.