If We Were Heroes | ONC2022

chapter eight

chapter eight: I talk to my family for the first time in years

SIX YEARS LATER —
I had avoided the plane like the plague, feeling like it would feel way too much. I wanted to avoid the memories as much as I possibly could. Which was probably the most stupid idea I had ever had, seeing as I was literally going to see my family.

Instead, I opted for the train, which was longer, and more public, but at least I could look out of the window and daydream, which couldn't be said about the endless white clouds on a plane.

I clutched the tiny leather suitcase Sebastian had given me closer to me, as if it would provide me with emotional support. I had kept my original duffel bag at school, not wanting to seem desperate to go home. And I had liked the way the leather suitcase made me seem like one of those dark academia face claims on Pinterest.

It wouldn't be long now, I realised, until I was back in Waverley, seeing the same faces I had grown up with. It left me with a queasy sort of happy feeling. I was nervous, to say the least.

My phone, yet another present from Sebastian, buzzed. I found it funny, in a messed up sort of way, that Sebastian gave me more presents in the six years I had been at the school than my own family had ever given me in my entire life.

S: you there yet?
  O: train, remember?
S: text me when you arrive
S: i want pictures of Ethan
S: he better look as good as I imagine
                          O: fuck off
                          O: i'm sleeping
S: no you're not
S: you feel like you're going to throw up
S: or you want to read a book
                          O: go away seb
S: whatever ;)

I put my phone down and tried to actually sleep, only proving Sebastian  right. Nerves were jumbling up in my tummy, whispering what ifs in my head. It would be impossible, I thought, to go to sleep.

Except it wasn't. Somehow, my eyes got heavier and heavier, until against my will, I found myself resting, and soon enough, I slept for the rest of the journey.

/

The sound of a horn blaring jolted me (rudely) from my sleep. I rubbed my eyes, glancing at my watch, finding I had napped for more than 2 hours.

Well, I wasn't exactly expecting to sleep tonight anyway.

I'd be there soon.

Struggling, I attempted to keep my eyes open for the rest of the journey, knowing that if they closed, I would fall asleep again, and probably sleep through until morning, which I definitely did not want. Though, it would be a believable excuse not to see my parents. Believable, but lame.

Finally, the train slowed to a halt, and I got off, double checking all my belongings before handing my ticket to the conductor.

'Nice gloves,' he said, gesturing to the fingerless black gloves I had taken to wearing. Little did he know that without those gloves, he'd be dead.

Or at least he should be. I hadn't had the nerve to actually try it.

I took a cab back home, regretting it as soon as I realised the driver was of the 'Chatty Drivers' species. I settled for a nice, long glare, which silenced him for nearly a full five minutes. But he got me home quickly, for better or for worse.

I stood outside the house I once knew, my finger hovering over the doorbell. As soon as I rang it, there'd be no going back. I'd have to stay here for an entire year, maybe more.

I didn't remember the house looking like this. I guess after staying in a huge boarding house, my own looked cramped and tiny in comparison.

It took me a full five minutes for me to pluck up the courage to actually ring the doorbell. listening to the sound echo through the house. I had a fleeting thought that I might just go back to school if no one answered.