Stories To Be Told

chapter one

When I was 16, my mother died. It happened in November, right around the time of year when everything looks gray and all you have to look forward to is the night time, just for a change of gradient in the sky.

My father, my dear father, didn't know what to do. He tried as hard as he could, but I could tell it was killing him on the inside. My older brother had to transfer to a closer college so he could come home and take care of me more easily. It wasn't that my father was bad at parenting, he just couldn't do it himself. He was so broken. We all were. The world lost it's color, and suddenly it was always November. Nothing was black and white, nothing was clear; it was all just gray, blurry, and cold.

Fast forward to the summer. My father needed a break, so he sent me off to England to live with a woman he called Aunt Lilly*. I learned that she was a close friend of my mother's and apparently they toured around Europe together when they were in their twenties. They even attended each other's weddings, though Lilly never made to my mother's funeral.

To say I was unhappy with this arrangement was an understatement. To me, it was still November. I was planning to stay inside over summer break, read a bunch of books, play piano. But I wanted to make my father happy, to be easy to deal with for once.

So when the time came, I packed my bags, kissed my father good-bye, and my brother drove me to the airport. I sat slumped in the passenger's seat of the car, my hoodie hiding my face.

"I wish you were coming, too," I mumbled to him, "Or I didn't have to go."

"We've talked about this, Eleanor. Work won't give me the time off. You'll be fine, I'm sure of it. And if the stories Mum told about Aunt Lilly were true, then you're going to have a great time." He smiled at me for second, quickly moving his eyes back to the busy street we were driving down. Well, we technically weren't moving very often due to traffic.

"Whatever, Brandon," I said, shrinking into myself even more. Just a few more minutes, and I would be left alone at the airport. I could just not get on the plane, I thought. No one will know. I'll run away. Then I realized that if I really wanted to get far away from home, going to England would be the best choice.

Soon enough, we pulled up to curb of the drop-off zone. Brandon popped the trunk of the car and grabbed my single suitcase while I reached into the back seat to get my backpack. Stepping out of our vehicle, I looked up to see my brother waiting with open arms. Gratefully, I melted into them.

"Stay safe, okay?" he whispered to my hair.

"Don't work too hard," I said to his chest.

We stayed like that for a minute until someone told us we had to move. That was when I was handed my suitcase, given a kiss on top of my head, and turned by my shoulders toward the entrance of the airport. I had gone through it in my head thousands of times, but somehow I still couldn't believe I wasn't going to see my family for a whole two and a half months.

Slowly, I shuffled away. Just about the same time I reached the glass door, I looked back. Brandon was sitting in his car, head in hands. I wasn't sure how I was going to survive the summer without him.

-

There's chapter one, so enjoy that. Someone tell me how long to make each one, because I honestly have no idea. I should mention that this chapter is quite boring and kind of just an introduction. Please keep reading for more exciting stuff.

Coat Of Armour seemed to fit this scene. You should definitely give it a listen if you haven't heard it.