Through Dimensions...? (On Hold)

A Coke, muffin, sandwich, and...goddess?

***Chapter One***

A Coke, muffin, sandwich, and...goddess?

~~~

A couple of hours earlier…

“I’m going to miss you so much,” My Mum hiccupped, squeezing me in a bear hug. I hugged her back, smiling when I saw Dad dabbing his emerald green eyes. So, the tough old man wasn’t so tough after all.

“You can cry, Dad. I won’t tease you,” I promised, stepping out of Mum’s embrace, grinning. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Don’t wish for such things!!” He yelled, bonking me on the head, sniffling.

I grabbed my assaulted head, laughing. “Alright, alright!” I giggled. “I’m sorry! Do I get a goodbye hug?”

Dad frowned, seemingly thinking over his options. “What will you give me if I hug you?”

“Uh…more hugs?” I offered.

He shook his head, grinning. “I’m kidding,” He guffawed, picking me up, and swinging me round. “I’m going to miss you, my little muffin. Perhaps more than your mother dearest over there…”

“Daaad!” I whined. “I’m not a kid anymore!”

Mum came over, still blubbering like a baby. “You’ll always be a kid to us, Ash,” She said shakily, wiping her eyes.

I rolled my eyes, and pulled both my parents into another bone crushing hug. “I’ll miss you guys too…” I said quietly.

They stepped back, and Dad grabbed my face in his hands. “Nah, you’re no kid…” He laughed, his eyes slightly watery. “My little muffin is on her way into the big, wide world…”

I almost facepalmed. “Dad, do notstart one of your cheesy speeches, please,” I pleaded, causing the two of them to smile.

Suddenly, the tannoy burst into life, and a lady’s voice echoed through the almost empty departure gates.

“Calling all passengers for flight sixty-three,” The lady’s voice carried through the open space. Could all passengers please make their way to the check in gates for the flight heading to New York…”

“That’s you, muffin,” Dad piped up. He handed me my grey-coloured rucksack, and I quickly popped the strap over my head. I hugged both of them again, and swiftly pecked them on the cheek.

“My little bellezza is leaving me…” Mum cried, and Dad patted her comfortingly on the back. Mum started to cry harder into her hands, muttering some unintelligible Italian words. “Il mio piccolo tesoro è in partenza…” I heard her sobbing.

I sighed deeply, noting the confusion flittering across Dad’s face. My Mother was Italian; y’see – and my Dad, being the Scotsman he is – didn’t know how to speak his wife’s language. So, I had found myself learning Italian, so I could be a translator in dire situations such as this.

Oh, and knowing Italian was pretty helpful when I visited my Aunts and Uncles over in Italy.

“Care to elaborate?” Dad panicked, gesturing at Mum’s shaking form.

I shook my head and smirked. “She said, ‘My little darling is leaving’” I replied. Dad nodded and ‘ahhed’.

“Il mio bambino, il mio bambino!” She gurgled. “Non mi lasciare!”

“Mum,” I chided gently. She looked up, her maroon eyes swimming with tears. “I’ll see you again. Oh, and please switch back to English. Dad looks like he’s gonna have a brain tumour.”