Over the years I've been in many schools (3), and moved to many places (Cayman Islands and Panama), but never I've wanted to stay in the place I moved to. when they gave me the news that we were going to move to PanamaI went mad, I honestly runaway form home (to my neighbors house for about an hour), and I had decided I was never going to comeback, my parents played along, I was 6.
A year had passed in Panama, everyday I would beg and beg and beg to go back, I always got the same answer.
One day my dad had came back from work and decided to go on a trip to Cayman Island, the whole family, one last time. I was so excited that I could piss my pants, Cayman was all I could dream of and my friends and the amount of stuff I would do. I had it all planed out in one of those cute detective booklets.
Things To Do
- Have fun
- Have more fun
- Have even more fun
And so on...
I wasn't sitting by the window on the way there, my sister was. When the plane landed I was so happy my cheeks almost popped. Then as we got out, I saw it, I didn't see the memory I had sen a year ago I hated that image, I hated my Cayman.
I realized that whatever decision our parents make is for our own good and safety.
Thank you dad.
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