George
Home.
The term 'home' is a funny thing. It can mean a lot of things. It can mean whatever you want it to mean. I don't think I've ever had a place I'd really consider calling home.
So actually, don't rely on my perception of what you should and shouldn't consider home. Since I've never really even had one.
Father, well, I'm not really sure on what he does. He wears suits, he shouts sometimes, and hes bossy when he wants to be. He travels a lot, and I mean a lot.
Sorry, we travel a lot, and he's the reason why.
We being me, my mother and my father. We aren't only a family of three though, I also have two older sisters, but they're back in London, doing whatever it is they do.
So, yeah. Until I hit the beautiful age of 18, I'm stuck under my parents rule. Meaning I'm dragged with them to whatever corner of the world they're travelling to. That just sounded terribly selfish.
I mean, what 17 year old wouldn't kill to be missing months on end of school to adventure around to the most exotic parts of the globe?When I phrase it like that it seems like a dream. Like a life people would love to live.
Until its not a dream anymore, and you begin to realize how genuinely lonely it is.
Even the most heated deserts and overclouded rainforests will fail to distract you from that looming desperation of a friend after a little while.
Yet, even mother and father couldn't ignore how glum I'd grown after a summer of stuffy plane rides back and forth across this earth.
And after a few weeks of consideration, planning and a couple long nights of fighting, they finally agreed to enroll me into St. Stevens Boarding School in Massachusetts.
Thats where this story actually begins.
YOU ARE READING
sparks
Fanfiction༄ how long can a spark last, before it burns out? its the year 1984- and george has just started boarding school in america. he makes friends easily enough, but there's one boy who he just can't seem to get along with. once the two of them manage t...
