𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 [1]

1

I've never been much of a helper, even when it was taught to us in school. Sharing is caring, drilled into our brains. I just really didn't give a shit. I was almost spoiled rotten and almost an only child. For the last 11 years of my life I practically have been. 

As soon as my brother turned 18 he went to college. My mom then decided that it was a perfect time to leave and go live in Illinois with my aunt. I suspect she just didn't want to see my dad anymore. Which was fine, I guess. 

Six years after we moved, my mom passed away. I was 10. It was tough but I still had my aunt. My brother didn't even come to Illinois for her funeral though. I don't know, he was living his little fancy life wherever he was at the time. I think that was one of the things that hurt the most. 

But after that, I've been doing fine with my aunt. In fact, I would even say I'm helpful. No that's a joke, I'm totally lying. 

Doesn't matter, Aunt Erin loved me and she didn't mind how I acted. Which was all nice until she dropped a bomb on me during dinner, "What!?" I shrieked, "You're joking, right? This is a joke, tell me it's a joke. Please, Erin." 

She sighed and set down her fork, "Look, Wren. It's just for a month or two. It wouldn't be so bad for you to go and see him anyways."

"What did I do? Did, did I do something wrong? I...I-I don't understand why you're sending me to Minnesota." 

"I'm not doing this to punish you, Wren-" 

"Sure as hell feels like it." I interrupted. I ran to my bedroom, slamming the door shut. I pulled my sheets over my head, hiding myself from the world. 

A couple minutes later, I heard soft knocking on my door, "Wren." 

"Go away." 

Erin sighed lightly, "Look, I understand that you must be frustrated right now but your brother hurt his knee and he needs all the support he can get. And I thought it might be nice for you to get out of Illinois." 

I stayed silent. Trying to ignore her airy voice attempting to soothe my temper. 

"I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it would be good for you." 

"How is this good for me?" I shout at her as I sit up on my bed, the sheets falling off of me.

The door opens and I see Aunt Erin's red hair poke into my room, "To be blunt, you have no friends here and you're going to fall into a depressive spiral if you stay here any longer." 

"I have friends." I murmur.

"Your history teacher doesn't count as a friend." Erin sits on my bed, pulling her feet up so she was sitting across from me, "It'll only be for a month or two, I promise. Besides, you know that I'm going on a work trip to London." 

"You can take me with you." I offered.

She looked at me, "You know I can't and I can't leave you alone here either." 

"I'll be perfectly fine." 

"Wren, I already bought you a ticket. And before you start it's non-refundable." 

I lay back down on my twin sized bed, "I hate planes." I sigh before glancing back up at Erin, "How long until I leave?" 

Erin licks her lips and checks her watch, "Oh...about...20 hours." 

"Erin! You couldn't have given me a sooner warning?" 

"Your brother didn't agree to this situation until this morning. You weren't here all day so I couldn't tell you." I groan into my pillow, "He said he's happy to be able to see you."

"I'm not happy to see him. 'Oh my god, Gordon. It's so nice to see you after 11 years. We really missed you at mom's funeral. Was a shame that you couldn't make it. Anywho, so excited to start a real bond with you after you decided your family wasn't worth your time.'" I raise my voice to mimic excitement. 

Erin sighs before patting my leg, "You should start packing soon." And then she got up and left me alone in my room.

☼

Erin was crying. 

I hated when she cried. 

She hugged me again, "Call me whenever you want to, ok?" 

"Alright." 

She pulled away from me and wiped her face, "Ok. You should go now. Don't want to miss your flight." 

I bit my lip, "Are you sure? Can't I just stay here?" 

"Wren...I-your mom would love if you and Gordon spent time together. You know I'm right." 

I looked up at the ceiling, "Dear Mom, I don't want to see my brother. Sorry if that makes you unhappy. Unfortunately, I don't care, seeing as you are dead." 

"Wren." Erin warned. 

"Sorry, just being honest," Erin grabbed my wrist, another silent warning, "Fine. I'm sorry...I'll try." 

"Good girl. Now don't be late. Oh and, Gordon will meet you at the airport." 

I look at her and begin to walk away, but I drop my bags and turn back around towards her, pulling her into a hug one more time, "I love you." I whisper quickly before pulling away. 

She wipes her eyes again and smiles at me, "I love you too...Ok, go." 

I smile at her again and head towards my gate. 

☼

Have I ever mentioned I hate planes? 

God, it's like a tiny death machine. 

I fiddle with my fingers while staring out of the window, which doesn't make me feel any better about sitting in this godforsaken metal tube of death. 

"I don't like these things either." The elderly woman next to me says. 

I look over to her, "Oh." 

She smiles warmly at me, "My son's a pilot and nothing bad has ever happened to him but they still scare me, you know?" 

"Yeah." 

"How many times have you been on an airplane before, or is this your first time?" 

I tap my fingers together as I answer, "I think four times. I never like them." 

She nods at me, "I'm Myrtle." 

"Wren." 

"Oh, that's a beautiful name." Her hand goes to her chest as if she's fully absorbing the 'beauty' of my name, "It fits you, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." 

I smile at her, "Thank you." 

I look over and out at the window again, willing the time to go by faster. 

At the Minnesota airport I wait on a bench. I don't know what Gordon looks like and I doubt he knows what I look like. 

I bring my knees up to my chest, waiting for someone who maybe looks somewhat like the picture my mom had put up when we first moved to Illinois. 

I think back to my Aunt Erin, wondering what she's doing alone. Probably crying. She does that a lot. Especially after my mom died, she always tries to hide that she's crying but she's never really been good at concealing things. Like christmas presents, I always found those suckers every year. 

"Have you seen a girl about yay high, traveling alone, she's like 14. Light brown hair?" I hear someone ask a couple about 50 feet away from me. I see them shake their heads as I stand up and grab my bags, walking towards them, "Dammit, alright. Thank you." 

"You found her." I say, stopping near them. 

The older man turns to me and smiles, "Wren." 

I don't return the smile, "Hi, Gordon."