Not What It Seems

Looking and seeing are two very different things. I wasn’t sure when I gazed at the foggy mountainside if what I was seeing was my reality or merely a dream. Embarrassingly enough, I was in the pajamas I went to bed in (which I NEVER step foot outside my house in); and then the wind started to pick up, making my over-sized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants billow, and my feet shrieked in defiance at the cold ground. In the near distance, I saw a figure. Walking towards the figure, I realize that it is a guy about my age although he would more than likely tower over me; as he starts approaching me, I see a pearly-white smile on his face and a twinkle in his beautiful green eyes. Who is he? I thought to myself. For a reason that I cannot explain, I started running towards him in what felt like slow motion (like in those cheesy romance novels), my long wavy chestnut brown hair swayed back and forth in the light breeze, my hazel/amberish eyes widened with growing anticipation and curiosity. As we reached each other, he rested his hands on my shoulders. I could definitely get used to this, I thought. But when he opened his mouth, he spoke in a voice that annoyingly resembled my little brother David’s voice, and started shaking my shoulders.

“Wake up! Come on Hayley, WAAAAKKKE UPP!!” he said, shaking me into consciousness.

I finally opened my eyes to see my reality.

My brother was standing next to my bed, smiling at me with a grin that, with his dark brown haired Justin Bieber haircut and big brown eyes, made him look about 10 years old. He had on his favorite yellow t-shirt with semi-skinny jeans and yellow sneakers to match and it made his naturally tan skin that much more noticeable. It was hard sometimes to realize that my brother will be turning 14 in just a few short days. We were planning to go to a new restaurant around the corner for his birthday. Even though he‘s only just reaching fourteen, his voice is starting to change and he is nearly taller than me already (although that isn’t saying very much at my five foot four inch stature). Last year, my friends had agreed that, although he may never leave his video game dojo, that with a little work, he could be a major heartbreaker when he enters high school. However, my friends sadly wouldn’t be able to see whether or not this happens, because this year was going to be different. This year, he would be joining me as we attended high school in a completely new country.

            Mom and Dad had moved our family to London so that they could continue their research of English and Mythology for a book that they plan to write and so my father could teach at Oxford. Although my father would be commuting every day, he was happy to have found a house in London, and this way my mom would have an easier job finding a job as an English teacher at one of the local middle schools. According to many of his students and the school board at our last home in Buffalo, New York, my father is nearly a world-renowned professor, although he didn‘t let that get to his head. That is why when Oxford offered him the position of English and Mythology professor, he simply couldn’t refuse. So, at the end of my junior year, good ol’ Dad decided to pack us up and move us to England.

            It had taken me a few weeks (and a few pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream) to get used to the idea, merely because we were leaving just in time for my senior year! I’d gone to school here my entire life and now, just as the beginning of the end was going to start, we were going to move. I’d be missing out on so many seniorish things with all of my friends; senior homecoming, senior prom, senior skip day, senior camp out, and most of all, my friends. My best friend Kayla had helped me pack for the move, even though most of it had already been sent ahead of time, along with my dad, who had to begin setting up his new office two weeks before we moved.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad!” Kayla said, always the optimist in our relationship, “It’s a fresh start after all! You won’t have to deal with Adam and Laura anymore. Don’t you want that?”

Watching her as she went back to folding up my old sweatshirts, I realized that she was right. Adam had been my boyfriend since half-way through my sophomore year until two months before junior year ended, when he decided that it would be cool to stick his tongue down Laura Benson’s throat at her spring break party, and we called it quits. I had been avoiding them for months, not looking at them as they passed in the hallway holding hands, or hanging with their friends at football games.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be bummed out anymore. It’s a new beginning.” I said, perking up, not sure if I was merely attempting to convince myself or the both of us.

“Just remember to e-mail me every day! And call if you see any hot British actors or royals! I don’t care what time it is!”

            I laughed and pulled her into a hug, letting all of my emotions flow into this one moment. From then on, I had thrown myself fully into the move, researching London and everything that went on, looking up the hotspots and whatnot. The last day in Buffalo was a huge mass of tears, hugs, goodbyes, “I love you’s” and stuff like that. Kayla went with her mom to see us off at the airport, and we hugged for what seemed like forever, and then it was gone as we checked in our bags, went into security, and boarded the plane.

            When we had finally arrived at our new home, boxes in tow, Mom went right to work, and entrusted me with the responsibility of decorating, because I have a knack for it (her words, not mine). Since there was nothing else to do, I gave all of my attention to finding paint colors and wallpapers, new furniture that would go with the paint (since we had to sell most of our major pieces in the move), cleaning up the kitchen, organizing which room would be whose (mom and dad got the master bedroom, obviously, and I called the bigger of the three remaining bedrooms, that came with its own adjoining bathroom, and David got the smaller with its own adjoining bathroom as well), and pruning, weeding, and finding lawn furniture for the small backyard that went with the house. Our house is a bigger brownstone with 4 bedrooms, 3 1/2 bathrooms, and walk-in closets in each of the bedrooms. David had called the room on the second floor with the view of the street splayed out in front of us, but I opted for the 3rd floor room with the skylight that lets you see what little stars that can be seen in the London skyline. I looked out every night before I went to bed, thinking of the fresh start that Kayla had mentioned, what it will mean for me, and for everyone in my family.

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Hello everyone!

This is part of an excerpt from an old story that I am still writing. I figured that I could start putting parts up on here of it! I will continue writing it as I go along though. I hope everyone likes it!

Also, for you Directioners out there, I do have a 1D fanfic called "Miss Invisible".  

Anyways, I implore you guys to vote, comment, add this to your reading list, and tell your friends about it :) it would mean the world to me if you guys did!

Have a magical night ;)

-Emily