prelude
"Okay, okay. You can let go now." Clara disengaged herself from her mother, who was significantly shorter than her, yet twice as fierce, and thrice as authoritative.
A part of her was still unsure of the decision she'd come to - perhaps because it was such a life-altering decision, or maybe just that she had a terribly anxious personality.
Either way, the nerves building in her chest were causing anarchy in her mind.
Fiona, her fifteen year old sister, eyed her tearily. She had a penchant for rom-coms, as well as taking home stray cats, and cried for days each time they left. (So far, she'd 'adopted' 6, and 7 had left the house. Clara had actually begun to grow fond of the kitten, before it ran off.)
Clara guessed that weepiness and having rampant emotions ran in the family, though the trait seemed to have skipped her. She'd supposedly inherited the overthinking gene that her father possessed, according to her mother.
She stepped gingerly into the embrace with her youngest sibling, patting Fiona's back with awkward jerks of her arm. You would've thought Fiona was the one that was about to travel some place away from home.
"It's okay, sis." she said, holding her sister's bony shoulders in front of her so that their eyes met.
"You'll visit, right?"
Another choked sob.
"Yeah, 'course. I'll visit every month, at least. Or you can come visit me. It's not even that far."
Fiona sobbed harder. Clara supposed that her lame attempt to be comforting failed.
Then, after a few more minutes of crying, Fiona removed herself from her sister's grip. "G'luck sis!"
Clara uttered a 'thank you' and turned to Leo, her eighteen year old (younger) brother. "So this is it, huh?"
He nodded. "I'll miss you. You're a bitch half the time you're here, but I love you anyways."
"What did you just say?" her eyes widened in disbelief.
"You're a bitch half--" he began, but she interrupted him.
"No, what did you say before and after that?" she asked, impatient for a reply. A grin was growing on her face.
He reddened and looked away. "I didn't say anything. Now, off you go!"
She snickered. "Sure, sure - whatever."
Clara stepped back and surveyed her family, nostalgia hitting her like hailstones.
"Well, I'm off..." she said, and then she was out of the door before her mother could remind her that she'd forgotten another trivial item (like any other asian parent), or before Fiona latched herself into her sister's arm to prevent her from walking away. She loved her family unconditionally, but heck, it felt wonderful to be independent.
-
{a sort of intro. I hope it wasn't too bad.}
YOU ARE READING
Somewhere Near Here
Teen Fiction'Time walks in a straight line, as far as I know. God, I could be wrong - maybe in a century or two this will be invalid, and science was never my thing. I mean to say, we were caught in the crossfire of time and its assistant - timing. We got unluc...
