It was a long weekend, and the family was getting ready to fly out of Dane County Regional Airport in Madison to visit Emily's grandparents in Port Jefferson, New York. Emily had never been on a plane before, and the thought of flying brought a mix of excitement and anxiety.

  Despite her best efforts, Emily found herself wide awake the night before the trip. The clock seemed to tick loudly in the hallway, each second a reminder of the impending journey. Her mind raced with thoughts of packing and making sure they’d be on time—even though she knew this wasn’t something she had to manage herself. She sensed the anxiety radiating from a deeper part of herself, a part that had been surfacing more and more lately. When morning finally arrived, she was understandably tired and irritable.

  As the family gathered in the living room, Sarah was busy getting everything together. Emily tried to help, but her suggestions caught her mother off guard.

  “Shouldn't we double-check the boarding passes? Is my ID packed? Wait…do I even need an ID?" Emily asked, her tone carrying a touch more authority than typical for a child her age.

  The questions slipped out naturally, revealing more of her seemingly adult-like knowledge than she intended. Sarah paused mid-action, turning to Emily with a look of puzzled amusement.

  "ID? Boarding pass? Emily, how do you know about these things?" she asked, bemused by her daughter's unexpected knowledge. Shaking her head with a gentle smile, she added, "Don't worry, sweetie, we've got everything covered. Why don’t you pick out a book or a game for the plane instead?"

  As time ticked away, the packing seemed to never end. Emily's anxiety mounted, and she felt increasingly frustrated at what seemed like a lack of urgency. "We are STILL packing? Doesn’t our flight take off soon? Mom, we need to go now - why do we need snacks for a flight can’t we just buy them at the airport or something? We won't have enough time to check in!" she insisted, as her voice octave increased a pitch in frustration.

  Sarah, her temper rising, took a deep breath attempting to calm her inexplicably anxious daughter. “Emily - it is okay, I know what I am doing - I promise we have enough time to get on the plane.”

  Nevertheless, her patience began to rapidly wane, a frustration crept into her tone. Clenching her teeth, she added in a moment of outward irritation, ‘Please… just stop shouting and go… do something… anything…’ she mentioned with a barely concealed tone of exasperation.

  Unfortunately for Emily, it was at that exact moment that a surge of hazy, yet stressful memories surfaced in her mind—images of someone rushing through crowded terminals, grappling with “e-check-in,” dealing with misplaced baggage, curt airport staff, and even being stranded due to missed connections. The memories faded as quickly as they had come, as if someone had abruptly severed the connection, but the emotions lingered. Frustrated, confused, and overwhelmed by this sudden burst of urgency, she smacked the coffee table, her outburst a blend of an adult’s exasperation and a child’s tantrum. “NO, WE WON’T! WHY ARE WE SO FREAKING SLOW?”

  —

  Sarah stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing with anger for the first time that Emily could remember in a long time. "Emily Gwen Parker!" she said loudly, her voice firm and unyielding.

  Emily shrank, her anxiety replaced by pure unadulterated fear as she saw Sarah radiating anger with an intensity she was completely unfamiliar with. She couldn’t recall ever seeing her mother this irate, much less receiving a severe reprimand and instinctively, and she took a few steps back. Adrenaline surged as she braced herself, a strange, heavy feeling settling over her, almost as if echoes from a distant past whispered warnings of an impending confrontation. “Oh no… I’ve done it now”, she thought with a gulp, feeling a heaviness settle in her chest.

  "That’s enough," Sarah said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You will not talk to your mother so disrespectfully—this is absolutely unacceptable! Go stand in the corner and think about your behavior… move, now, missy!"

  Emily stood frozen in space. "I’m sorry - you want me to do what?" she asked, bewildered, her mind struggling to process the instructions with the emotional rollercoaster at play within her.

  "Stand in the corner and think about your behavior," Sarah repeated her, voice firm and eyes ablaze as she pointed decisively at the corner. “Act like a toddler, you’ll get disciplined like one.”

  Emily resisted, feeling an odd clash within her—a surge of indignation from herself mixed with a sense of shock and disbelief that felt strangely mature.

  Sarah noticed her hesitation and placed a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her forward. Emily’s feet moved as if on their own, like someone being led to a firing squad, her movements dazed and mechanical. "Am I seriously getting a... timeout? At this age? This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath. But before she knew it, she was standing in the corner, the familiar walls of her home suddenly feeling less comforting and more like the boundaries of a prison cell.

  "Wait here until I tell you otherwise," Sarah added sternly before turning back to her packing.

  —

  Standing there, the situation felt surreal to Emily. She felt small and powerless, her emotions whirling in a confusing mix, caught between what felt like a combination of a child's humiliation and an adult's indignation.

  It had been years since her mother had disciplined her like this—she’d believed herself to be too old for punishments of this nature. Yet something deeper seemed to stir inside her. The corner felt like a confining cage, as a storm of emotions raged inside her. She felt anger—at the perceived unfairness of it, at herself for not being able to express her concerns, and at her mother for dismissing her fears.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  A small grumble escaped her in response, carrying the weight of her confusion and frustration.

  But within the tumult, another layer of emotion crept in - grief and remorse. She regretted pushing her mother to a breaking point and felt a hint of fear for their future relationship.

  “”What if mom hates me? What if she…stops talking to me? What if she yells at me or …worse?” Nearly sobbing, she ran through anxious possibilities, her mind spiraling.

  Then, she felt it—a subtle warmth, as if a part of her was trying to comfort her. Gradually, a calm began to settle over her, almost as if someone, or something, were soothing her. “It’s okay, Emily,” a soft voice seemed to whisper deep within - both familiar and distinct. She paused, unsure if she had thought those words herself.

  “Your mom loves you,” the voice seemed to continue softly in the recesses of her mind - barely audible. “One little fight won’t break your bond with her.” As if by magic, brief, comforting memories surfaced: her mother reading her bedtime stories, sitting by her side at the hospital, chasing her around the house playfully. These thoughts seemed to hug her, wrapping her in a warm mental blanket that softened her frustration and eased her fears. More at ease - Emily shook her head and dismissed them as her conscience or inner voice or similar.

  As the minutes passed, Emily’s sense of calm deepened, even as a hint of unease lingered. Soon, her mind drifted to boredom. She studied the wall—there was little else to do—taking in mundane details like chips in the paint and the trim’s pattern, finding solace in these trivialities.

  “This is ridiculously boring… I’m so freaking bored!” she muttered, staring at slight imperfections in the drywall as if they were clues to some profound truth. As she did, she felt a gentle pulse from within—a sensation akin to quiet laughter. Despite herself, Emily smiled, shaking her head at the strange, absurd nature of it all.

  Curiosity tempted her to turn around, to assess if Sarah was still watching her. She shifted slightly, sneaking a glance over her shoulder. 'Emily…did I say you can move from the corner?' came an immediate parental admonishment, causing Emily to rapidly snap her face forward again, her frustration mingling with shock and resignation.

  An amusing thought then passed through her mind - Emily realized that her father was nowhere to be found. In fact, he had quietly disappeared altogether. “'Well, looks like Dad’s been quiet - actually, he has mysteriously vanished hasn’t he? Probably dodging Mom’s potential wrath... Good job, Dad, duck and cover…" she chuckled too herself.

  —

  After some time had passed, Emily heard her mother’s footsteps as Sarah approached - triggering a wave of anxiety in anticipation of the impending conversation. As her mother turned Emily around to face her, the sensation of being pivoted around induced a tightness in Emily’s chest, like facing a sentencing. Instinctively, she gazed down, eyes fixed on the ground, unable to meet her mother’s gaze.

  "Emily, it’s important we talk about showing others respect. You can’t speak to your parents like that, even when you're upset," she said, her tone serious yet caring. "Do you understand why it’s important to stay calm and respectful?"

  Emily nodded, her eyes still transfixed on the ground, waves of guilt washing over her once again. In that moment, she was no longer burdened by adult memories or intelligence; she was simply a child, chastised and deeply remorseful about disappointing her mother. “Yes, I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. “I get so anxious about things... I don’t know why... but I know I was rude. I’m really sorry.”

  "What if they’re really mad at me? What if they don’t love me anymore because I got upset?" Emily thought, her heart pounding. The fear of rejection gnawed at her, a familiar but no less terrifying sensation.

  Sarah gently raised Emily's head to look at her, seeing the distress in her eyes and sensing her daughter’s internal struggle. Her heart softened as she realized how unnerved Emily was and how much guilt she carried. “It’s okay, Emily,” Sarah said reassuringly, straightening a strand of her daughter’s hair. “We’re a family, and we’ll get through this trip just fine. Remember, even when we’re upset or frustrated, it doesn’t mean we love you any less, okay? We all lose our temper sometimes, but that doesn’t change how much we care about each other, right?”

  Upon hearing her mother’s reassurance, Emily felt a rush of emotions - relief flooding through her as tears welled, her frame shaking with soft sobs apologizing profusely. Sarah, initially startled by Emily's sudden outburst, quickly and instinctively drew Emily into a warm embrace. “Oh, kiddo, it's okay to be upset. We all get overwhelmed, and that’s perfectly normal. We're your family, and nothing could change how much we love you.”

  In that moment, Emily realized she wasn’t just a child— she was an integral part of this family, not something that could easily be removed or replaced. She was Emily—loved and secure.

  The fears of rejection and abandonment began to dissipate as she understood that disagreements wouldn’t sever her family’s bonds. In that moment, she felt, perhaps for the first time, that she could be herself—perceived flaws and all—and still be loved. This was, after all, a place where she was allowed - no, where she allowed herself - to be vulnerable and yet still embraced.

  —

  The drive to Dane County Regional Airport was smooth, and as they neared the terminals, Emily felt a strange, unexpected sense of nostalgia. Though this was her first time here, a quiet, curious part within her seemed to observe the journey with fascination. She sensed that this experience was far simpler than it might have been.

  Brief flashes of stern, uniformed security guards, strict check-in agents, and people hurriedly removing shoes for screening flickered through her mind like faint echoes. Yet, the scene around her was different—check-in was calm, with paper tickets and friendly staff offering a warm, personal touch. The ease of it all gave Emily a sense of comfort she couldn’t quite place, but it felt right, as if this simplicity was how it was meant to be.

  As they boarded the plane, she noticed the larger seats and the overall spaciousness compared to what she had expected. Some part of her had inexplicably expected to be crammed in the plane like a sardine but she was pleasantly surprised. “This is actually really…comfortable,” she thought, marveling at space and legroom.

  To add to it all, a flight attendant offered her a lollipop!

  Emily grinned, accepting it eagerly. “Chocolate would’ve been better but oh well,” she mused, happily devouring the treat anyway. In response - an amused thought seemed to comment “At least it wasn’t a single peanut…”

  Once settled into her seat, Emily peered out the window, feeling a mixture of excitement and calm. As the engines roared to life and the plane accelerated, she felt a thrill at the press of g-forces, something that seemed to resonate with a deeper part of herself. She found herself smiling at the sensation as they climbed higher, the world below shrinking into a patchwork of fields and roads, becoming a distant, beautiful mosaic.

  Looking out at the fading landscape, Emily felt a sense of peace settling over her, a warmth that went beyond just the pleasure of her first flight. Despite the tension earlier, she realized how safe and cherished she felt with her family. The worries she’d carried seemed smaller now, softened by a quiet inner assurance. This journey, this life, felt full of wonder and possibility, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how magical her world had become with each passing day.