#plathacademy

She’d had enough. Of biting her lip, and playing with her hair. Of hearing her favorite song, and just sitting there, in those dumb plastic chairs that were made for 5 year olds. Of watching happy looking people, dancing away. Sure, they probably weren’t completely happy. But they sure as hell looked better than she did. All she ever did was watch.

a memory that made me feel special:

Sometimes special is lucky. Luck is unexpected.

March 22, 2016.

“Charlie, come on!”, I called out at my younger brother. “Charlie?”

We were going to be so late. I turned around, and scanned my surroundings. About 30 people behind me in line, and maybe 5 in front. On the large screen, it read “BRUSSELS: TRAIN DEPARTING 10:20

"Ugh.”, I groaned, as I Fumbled for my cell in my pocket, a badly working iPhone 4.

I had almost reached Charlie, when I felt someone grab my shoulder, and whirled around.

“CHARLIE!”, I cried, a bunch of people turned to look at me. “Charlie. Where were you? God, you scared me to death.”

“Natalia.”, Charlie said. There was a look of sadness in his eyes. Worry. “T-there was a bombing in Brussels at the train station.”

I gulped. That was where my brother and I were headed, to meet our cousins. We missed it by barely an hour. God, who knows what would’ve happened had we went earlier? That was the original plan after all. The only reason we caught the later train, is because we overslept our alarm.

I was terrified, but lucky. It was quite possible that my brother and I could’ve been killed. But that didn’t happen. It was special.