Christian Westbrook, an emotionless seventeen-year-old who is far too mature for his age, is trapped in a life with his aunt and uncle. It was never his intention, but he didn't have an option. His life has been irreparably altered, and he longs for...
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(CHIP)
I did it.
I finally agreed to go the country club with James and my aunt. The pain only sinks in when we pass the white wall, with the country club craved into the stones.
The memories of this place have been erased from my mind. I never wanted to remember coming here, it was my favourite place really.
I remember, Liam and I would ride around in the golf carts which we were far too young to operate. It always drove our parents insane.
"There's a buffet in the main hall in you need anything to eat," My aunt tells me with a smile.
I nod in response as I glance over to her, the weather is calm today which is the only reason we're here.
People come to the country club most days for leisure, it's mainly housewives who've just come from Pilates and want to break a sweat by playing some tennis.
While the men come to gamble on Saturdays, see whose horse is the fastest or who can get the closest to a hole in one.
Golf was never much fun to me, but horse riding may just be the season's best thing for an adrenaline rush.
"I'll join you guys," I tell her and she smiles even more, the simplest things makes her happy.
Just showing the slightest bit of humanity makes her smile. I remove my hands from my pockets and walk up the tedious steps.
We're greeted by two young boys, who are probably working here for a few bucks for the summer. I remember it all too well, that used to be Liam and I after all.
I nod in their direction before we make our way to the main hall, the interior of the country club was always something to gaze at.
From the high ceilings with the bright chandeliers which hang down, to the limestone wall, the detail in every plank of wood and the neutral colors of it all.
It always made my head turn, the way they integrated the modern world into the old. It's a beautiful piece of human work.
When we reach the main hall, the noise of laughter and chatters catch my ears. Half of these people will giggle in my ears and caress me with their pitiful touch.
My aunt runs a hand against my back before patting it, "Come on," she says.
And with that we walk into the pit-hole. A few head turn and a few struggle to keep straight as if it's a strain to turn their necks.
