Don't Leave Me Lonely

chapter 1

Giselle's POV:

I sighed as my head pounded from being on a plane for the seventh hour. I was on my way to England for the first time from California. It was also the first time I was seeing my father after 4 years. My brain wondered again 'Why did my father leave? What was so important that he left his 12 year old daughter and never spoke to her again for all this time?'. I tried not to think of the past anymore as I felt tears well in my eyes. This is going to be a new start and I didn't want to dwell on the past as I was heading to my future. But, then again how could I forget my past when my mother was ill back in California? I mean she practically begged me to go to my father, but that didn't make it any easier to leave her.

Apparently, my father was paying for the best hospital and doctors for her, but she didn't seem any better. She had been falling sick for a couple of months, but the day she collapsed in our kitchen was when everything changed. Everything these past few weeks was a flourish of packing and tears. My mother was bed-ridden and couldn't do much at all to help me move. My parents had divorced when I was 11 and I still have no idea what happened. They seemed happy and then suddenly there was screaming, crying, and papers. For a year, I bounced between my dad's condo and my childhood home. Then, one weekend my dad just didn't show up. I called so many times and even had my mom drop me off to his house. He was gone, packed up with a note that said he had moved back to England and that it was urgent.

I jumped a little as I heard the intercom announce we were landing. I quickly gathered all my things I had used over the long flight and buckled in. When I arrived at the airport, I searched for the sign with my name on it. I finally spotted 'Giselle Harper' on a sign and headed that way with my multiple suitcases. Standing in front me for the first time in 4 years was my father. He stood in a black suit which is something that hasn't changed since I was a kid. He looked quite uncomfortable in the middle of a busy airport, as if he didn't interact with that many people on a daily basis. I stood a little ways away from him so that he didn't see me yet. I took a deep breath and approached him.

Tears welled in my eyes as I finally walked up to my father, Andreas Castellano. He took me in and I saw tears beginning to fill his eyes as well. I rushed into his arms and hugged him like I used to when I was a little girl. While I was on the plane, I told myself I'd ignore him and give him a taste of what the last 4 years were like. But seeing my father in the flesh after all this time made it impossible to act like we were strangers. "You have a lot of explaining to do." I mumbled into his chest. He let out a hearty laugh and said "Yes, I know I do."

After I got over my little crying scene, my father and I got into his BMW. The car felt nice and luxurious, although it did feel weird driving on the other side of the road. We drove through the countryside and everything felt so different from the bustling place that was Los Angeles, California. I rolled the window down and let the cool breeze rush across my face. After about 30 minutes of driving, we pulled into a series of streets with small shops. There were little cafes, small homes, and flower shops. The scent of fresh baked goods wafted to my nostrils as I breathed in the scent of England. We continued driving and passed small cottages and relatively large houses, all unique to their own extent. I snuggled into my pink sweatpants and white hoodie as the breeze picked up a tiny bit more. After a few minutes more, my father pulled into the driveway of an adorable and small house.

I step out of the car and admire the quaint and cozy house. It was painted a dark shade of greyish-blue and had a cute little porch. Has my father been living here all this time? Back in California, we all lived in a large house. This was so unlike him given his fancy outerwear and car. "You live here?" I questioned. "This is definitely not what I expected when I came here." I said, not letting my amazement show on my face. "I needed a change of pace when I moved from California.." my father started. He didn't finish his sentence and just gazed up at his home. He grabbed one of my bags, shot me a smile and wheeled my stuff up to the front porch.

When I stepped inside, the first thing to greet me knocked me back onto the floor. I gasped and I tripped over my things, only to realize my father had a golden retriever puppy. I giggled as it began to lick my face and yip excitedly. "You have a dog?! The surprises keep coming with you." I said, slightly hostile that he had been living this completely different life the moment he left us. He put on that old man smile and said "His name is Caspen. I adopted him about a year ago. He's been my best friend during my time alone." I felt a little sad at the thought that my father only had a dog as comfort for an entire year. Then I remembered he left me for four so I didn't feel quite as bad. "Can I see where I'll be staying? I want to put this stuff away" I said. My dad quickly grabbed my bags and made his way to a quaint set of stairs.

He opened up the door farthest to the stairs and my jaw dropped when I saw the inside. String lights with golden bulbs lined the ceiling of the room. There was a wall of books with a ladder to reach the top. My eyes were practically hearts as I saw the comfy looking corner that I for sure would be reading in. There was a queen-sized bed against the wall with white sheets. There was also a guitar in the corner and I knew I would need to learn how to play. There was a small connecting balcony which was undecorated. I turned to my father and grabbed him into a hug.

He gasped at the force of my hug and let out a chuckle. "Thank you so much, this is perfect." I said, my voice muffled by his clothes. After me fawning over the room a bit longer, Caspen came into the room and laid his cute, chubby face on my knee. I gave him a head pat and allowed him to sit in my lap as I was scrolling through my phone and checking my socials. My ex boyfriend had posted another Bart Simpson edit on his Instagram story. I laughed a bit at his childness and closed the app. He was one person I wouldn't miss while I was here in England.

Later that evening, my father and I sat around the small table for dinner. Apparently, he had taught himself to cook after realizing this wasn't a place you really could order in. We chatted mindlessly a bit, me telling him about school in LA and him telling me about the amazing sights he's seen in the past few years. Finally, the topic approached what I'd be doing for school this year. "You'll be going to Coventry Prep. I assure you it's the best school in this part of England and you have access to everything you need for any career you want." my father said in his posh british accent.

I sighed at the idea of being the new girl, and one from another country at that. Thankfully, we didn't have to wear uniforms at this school, but of course there was a strict dress code. That evening after my shower, I researched more about my school. Lots of famous people have gone to that school and even the king's children go to the school. I would be going to school with royalty? The prospect of that was scary, but they probably don't even have classes with commoners like I am. With that thought in my head, I shut off my bedside lamp and drifted to sleep.