PLEASE CHECK DIALOUGE...IT MIGHT GET MESSED UP B/C OF YAHOO ANSWERS FORMATTING BUT PLEASE CHECK CAPITALIZATION ETC. BTW IM IN 7TH GRADE...THIS PAPER IS not PERFECT!
The trees and houses rolled past, but this wasn’t the Chicago I remembered. The pilot’s voice came over the crackly intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I’m sorry to inform you that there’ been storms spotted in the Chicago area. We’ve chosen to land in Columbus, Ohio instead.” He went on with the weather report and time, but I didn’t pay much attention. I was too anxious to get off the plane, which smelled like Grandma’s house. The seats were scratchy and the kid behind me must’ve broken his leg kicking my chair, so I didn’t care that we weren’t going to Chicago.
However, my mind changed when I learned that not reaching our original destination meant not getting our luggage until we arrived there. That meant it could be up to a week until I got to wear fresh clothes, brush my hair, or even sleep with my teddy bear again. My parents didn’t know what to do, so we trudged over to a Burger King and thought things over. My parents had a total seventeen dollars and twenty-five cents after our meal at Burger King. Seventeen dollars wouldn’t last three people for 3 days, let alone a week. We called my grandparents, who we were going to Chicago to see. They that that they couldn’t even get out of their house because the storms, sleet, and snow was so bad.
I watched as the skinny blonde ladies hurried past with their miniature dogs, while the businessmen sauntered on, talking on their earpieces. There were few passengers from the flight we had just walked off of because many were all traveling on to a further destination. We looked around hopelessly at the passengers arriving, departing, and eating. I was watching an old man slurp his chili with the when a young lady approached us.
“Were you on the flight?” she questioned. “The one that didn’t make it to Chicago?” My parents nodded with a worried expression. “Oh I’m sorry. It must be awful without money. No food, no clothes…” her voice wandered off. She continued, “Who knows when you’ll get all your luggage back? Tell you what. I’ve been in this situation before, and it’s not fun. These twenty dollars,” she held up a crisp bill “were going towards new shoes. But you’re obviously in a lot more trouble than my sore feet. Take it.” And with that, she walked away.

My parents and I stared after her in disbelief.
“Well,” spoke my mother, cautiously, “Now we have just over thirty-seven dollars. We’ll get three sufficient meals a day and split them.” Little did we know that we wouldn’t be stuck there for long.
My grandfather called us the next morning around eight thirty. We had slept on the seats at gate G 12, where we had departed from the plane. He had told us that he would be able to drive over, but it would take at least another day because of icy roads and traffic. While we waited, my father and I raced around on the moving walkways, tracked the arrivals and departures, and looked at all the passengers anxiously waiting. There weren’t any other passengers from our flight because they had all been picked up by friends or relatives.