Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Dreaming - The view of an optimistic, blonde hippy!

Dreams are funny things...
Some people dream of Money.
Some people dream of Family.
Some people dream of Love. Me? I dream of gettin to Forks to meet my friends in one piece.
I doubt it will happen. Catkin's view of Charmingal's Dreaming.


2. Chapter 2 - Long Flights and Moonsugar

Rating 5/5   Word Count 763   Review this Chapter

Tasha had a suspicious look on her face as we shuffled through security. I jumped when something brushed against my arm, then SCREAMED when a thick stream of green goo trickled down to my wrist. I wrestled my off jumper (Now RUINED) and turned to see who or what the culprit was…


“TASHA! I AGREED YOU COULD TAKE THE KAYAK ON ONE CONDITION. YOU CLEANED IT FIRST!” I was attracting a bunch of weird looks (As if I don’t get enough of those already…).

I waited for Delia to go through, when she was taken to one side by a nervous looking, bog standard, pizza faced security guard. This was all we needed! I spy, at the far end of the airport, a shop that would most likely cause us to miss another plane. As Tasha trots over to talk to me, I turn my head to one side, keeping my eye on the E number filled shop. Tasha, taking my ignoring-ness (Yes I know that’s not a real word. Get used to it. There’s going to be a lot more…) as a bad mood turns to watch Delia’s predicament with little interest.


“Tatashie!!!!” Delia leapt on Tasha as she bent down to do up her shoe lace.

“What is it now?” asks a disgruntled Tasha as she takes he shoes off and sticks them in her hand luggage bag.

“Look what Catkin’s been trying to hide from us!”

Damn and Blast. I hadn’t counted on Delia spotting it. It was a Moonsugar shop. Moonsugar is an substance that has so many additives and colourings that its banned in 6 states and 3 countries. A conversation I had with Rob before we left came to mind…

“Don’t let Tasha eat any moonsugar. Surely you remember what happened last time!”

“Rob, I swear that Tasha will NOT eat, lick or even sniff a molecule of moonsugar before we get to Forks. I PROMISE!”

So much for that… I decided I would have to do something before they start bouncing off the shiny walls of the airport. I grab Delia round the waist and tried to snatch the hood on Tasha’s jumper that was sticking out over her coat collar. She dodged. There was a sharp tug on my blonde hair and I lost my grip on Delia. There was a scream as two blurs disappeared into the depths of the shop.

Now sitting on the floor, I decide to get up before some old dear shuffles over, asks me if I’m okay and offers me a Murray Mint. (Which, for future reference, I would have of accepted.) I trudge over to where a young couple were sitting and asked if I could sit on the end of their table. After a strange look from the woman at the fully black outfit I was currently wearing I got a mumbled yes.

10 minutes later, Tasha and Delia reappear, arms laden with tubes of Moonsugar. I was not very happy at this. They had to of at least of had 500 tubes each. After bribing me with a couple of sticks of Moonsugar from their stash, (Is that all I get? Two measly sticks?!) I lightened up a little.

I decide to grab an Isle seat before I’m stuck between two hyper teens on a super long flight.

“Great! I get the window seat!!!!” Tasha yells, as if she’s never sat next to a window before.

“Look!” Delia points behind us. “They have a Smiths!”

Now there was a shop I didn’t mind them going into. I decide to grab myself some literature and join the queue leading to the counter. I thumb through the book and read the blurb thoroughly. I caught the words ‘Young’, ‘Criminally Insane’ and ‘Schizophrenic’, and grabbed it off the shelf. I get nudged from behind and find Tasha, holding about 20 odd magazines in her arms. I shook my head as a bag of minstrels fly past my ear.

“Catch!” Delia calls, a little too late.

30 minutes and £20 later, were running for the plane. Well… Me and Delia are. Tasha strolls along behind as if the plane doesn’t leave for another hour. A little verbal encouragement / abuse later and she’s running to.

We sit down, open sweets, flick through magazines and listen to our I-Pods. There’s a woman saying something about a life jacket, but she gets drowned out by Muse (Knights of Cydonia to be precise).

There’s a tap on my shoulder. “Can you get up? I need to pee before we take off…”

It’s gonna be a long flight…