Later
on we woke up with a start and remembered that we were within a large metal
bird flying to who knows where. We all calmed down until we heard the
footsteps. Why have footsteps always
meant something bad ever since Nepal? I thought to myself as we huddled
closer together.
My
heart took on a rampage within my chest as they grew closer and closer to the
back compartment. Barely holding onto a scream, the back door began to creep
its way open slowly letting in light that glared on our faces.
Anya
was holding onto Ema and Alina like they were comfort dolls, almost squeezing
them to a pulp. The door opened wider and we began to hear the soft breathing
of the person who was opening it. Suddenly the suspense was too much for Ema
and she let out a terrified squeak loud enough to rattle any mountain nearby
(or at least it seemed that way).
The
person opening the door jumped before they threw it open entirely and peered
in. It was the woman.
She
stared at our terrified faces before letting out a sigh and turned around.
“It
seems we have a couple of stowaways on board Michael!” she called back to the
pilot in a language foreign to me.
“Please!”
I shouted above the roar of the engine and the pilot, “We need help! Don’t hurt
us!” With a look of total bewilderment the woman turned back to us. She had
fair hair that curled around her shoulders and a face with two pink cheeks. He
eyes were a deep brown the reminded me of my mother’s.
“Nepalese?”
she said in our own language, “But how on Earth did you get here?”
So
she invited us to come out and sit on the middle benches as we all told her
about what had happened to us.
Half-way
through she asked for a large piece of fabric from the pilot to blow her nose
with and wipe her eyes. She then proceeded to tell us that she had just come
from Nepal and stopped a large box (she used another word I did not know) of
girls that were to be sold on the black market. Apparently she was part of some
group who wished to help people from my country survive the inter-Asian disturbances.
My heart rose as I realised that it was
our terrifying box that we had been imprisoned in so long ago which she was
talking about.
She
also told us that we were headed to her homeland; a place by the name of
Australia, which was to our astonishment also known as the Great Southern Land.
Soon after our discussion, she had talked to the pilot who was also her husband
and came back to us.
“Now
what I am about to propose is very, very serious. I want you to think about
this very seriously as it will impact your life greatly. You will not be able
to go home.”
“Oh,
but we don’t want to go back.”
“Well
then perhaps this will come as good news to you. My husband and I wish to adopt
you.” she said with a tentative smile on her face.
“Adopt?
What is that?” I asked her blatantly.
“Adoption
is where another adult takes responsibility for lost children. If we adopt you,
you will be able to stay together as a family within Australia with myself and
my husband Michael. But it’s okay if you don’t want to. I am just worried that
if we don’t, you won’t be allowed to come into Australia and you might get
split up.” At this, Anya gave me a look of questioning.
So we began a discussion that would once again
change our lives forever.
****
As
it ended up, we agreed for Belinda (that was her name) and Michael to adopt us
and have all lived together in Australia ever since. I still wonder about my
real parents back in Nepal but do not dare go back for fear of being captured
again.
This
place here is amazing, we have learned to speak English and we now go to a
place called school. Personally, I don’t like school much but Ema and Alina
love it. Our lives are better here but we still bear the scars of such an
emotional journey through so many cultures and countries that I don’t think we
will ever forget our ordeal.
I
cannot help but think where or who Ashmi is with now. Is he safe? Will he have
a better life? Perhaps it would have been best for him to have stayed in Nepal
after the old woman died. But however much we wish, we cannot change the past.
Many
have asked us how we survived and what we have done. The most often asked
question is where we have been
-
but we can only reply that we have been here
and there and in between.
Fin
(Please note this story is entirely fictional)
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