Flutter

Chapter 1

The clock struck four, not that there was any sound or a ring of a bell that announced it. I knew it, cause I was staring at it for the past thirty minutes. What else could I do? The dusty old mattress and the bed I was sitting on were all that was now left. Although the bed was quite cosy and had held me through countless slumber some nights, I was still rather uncomfortable. I guess any other fifteen-year-old would be, if only they knew that the house they lived their whole life was being sold off to a snobby couple with a pesky little three-year-old stuck to his iPad; and every friend and best friend you ever made in the town would be several miles away. If only they knew they were being sent to their medieval-aged grandfather who wore metal framed spectacles and snored in their sleep, spent his whole life in a prehistoric house secluded in the middle of an eerie mosquito-infested forest. I have always been more of a beach person, but for now, I would have been grateful for my home. Brushing aside my thoughts, I lifted my head to look at the time. It was two minutes past four. The day was oddly lengthy, yet I wanted to savour every moment I had with this house. My hands lay on the bed, my shoulders strained upwards and my head bent low. The sun's rays hit the window, scattering across the room. A single ray of sunlight bounced off the white marble floor, hitting right the corner of my eye, making it seem as if a rainbow struck my lashes. I blinked slowly, specks of dust floated in the golden room, seeming purposeless. Something I felt at the moment since I had little idea about enjoying spending time in some gloomy woodland.

"Elle!" my mother yelled, "Hurry up darling, the train won't wait for you". I poked my head out of the window to see my mom dressed in a trench coat and her frizzy, auburn hair let down, somewhat resembling a lion's mane. My father stood by his car, vigorously tapping his left foot and repeatedly lifting his wrist to his face to check the time, not once looking up at me. My Oxford boots thumped clamorously as I rampaged down the wooden staircase, sliding my hand across the metallic rails. Normally I would rest my bottoms on the railings and slide down, it was one of my favourite things to do, but time was lacking and the train would not hang fire for me. I twisted the round golden doorknob and pulled the door towards me, rushing out, not caring to close it. I sprinted towards the red BMW, savagely attempting to open the latch. I glanced at my father, his face comprised a tinge of disappointment and immense annoyance. He held the car keys next to his vexed face, pressing the unlock button twice and glaring into my eyes like piercing blades. I hastily looked down to break eye contact as the car beeped open and sat on the black leather backseat, still conscious of my father's displeased gaze on me. He loaded the last suitcase into the trunk before starting the engine with a rumble. Mom sat in the front seat, extending her arm backwards to reach the seatbelt. In no time, we drove off to the train station as the porter truck steered towards the airport

"It's gonna be fine Elle, I'm sure it won't be that bad. I remember I used to play fairy fights with my friends when I was your age. We used to have so much fun!" I internally gagged at Mom's statement and looked away. It is hard when your mother treats you like an eight-year-old and your father expects you to behave thrice your age. Such nonsense won't bother at least at Pop's, he minds his business much and expects me to do the same, which I'm happy with. I poked my head out of the window, gently closing my eyes as the crisp breeze braced my face, washing mundane thoughts out of my head. Although it felt cool on my face, it felt like a flame ignited inside of me, unwavering and still, calm and composed; as though it hugged my soul and consoled my spirit. My hair flowed gracefully, like waves on a beach. I felt free, separated from the world, on my own path.