The sudden downpour had trapped us inside our miniscule hotel room. We were just about to hit Waikiki Beach down below us, but then it rained. Mom and Dad were talking about what we were going to do now, and my siblings continued striking each other with colorful pool noodles.
Staring out at the window, I knew that things would get better eventually. Hawaii was known for having the best rainbows, and there would have to be a beautiful one after this torrential shower. It even said so on the postcard I squeezed tightly in my hand.
I looked down at it and saw an impossibly cheery sunset over Waikiki Beach. Looking back up at the window, I couldn’t help but wonder if those sunsets even existed. The skies were gloomy gray and the rain was so heavy it almost looked as if mist were covering Downtown. I also couldn’t see any palm trees, and the extensive black highways extending in both directions as far as I could see reminded me of New York.
“Am I in the right Hawaii?” I whispered to myself. It was only then did I realize that all of the surrounding hotels were just towers of concrete and nearby, Kapiolani Park appeared as a dark lake.
I couldn’t help but recoil at the thought of Hawaii not being everything I thought it would be. I came here expecting an impractical tropical paradise, and what I see now is just Hawaii.