The Gift of Chaos

2 - Scott

I was born in raised in Hollybridge. I've never lived anywhere else, and only been outside of it a few times for field trips. As far as small English towns go, I suppose it wasn't so bad. But it was incredibly boring. The only animation was a the tiny cinema that only held a hundred, and the playground in the park. There were a few shops of course, but a lot had closed because everyone went to the next town to shop.

So, early on, I decided to find my own imagination. It happened one day when I was at the school library (which is even smaller than the cinema, and believe you me, that's saying something). Most of my classmates and myself were no older than eight. We were all there to pick one book to take home and read.

I had been looking through the children's section, when I found books by Roal Dahl. James and the Giant Peach. I remember the book from the first line. I remember being intrigued by the cover and title. A giant peach? That sounded pretty cool. So I picked it out and took it home. From that day, was when I was pulled into the world of the adventurous and the fantastical.

I read book after book, spent hours researching all I could. I was fascinated by anything considered "supernatural". Which meant that by the time I was sixteen, I have read more books and watched more films than the entire town. So much in fact that it got me teased and ostracised at school. And while that was of course not fun, I eventually worked my way through it. I had the characters of my books, that was enough for me.

I went outside that morning to clear the drive of the snow while my mother made sure my twin sisters, Mary and Lucy, who'd just turned eleven, were ready for daycare. The three of us were on holiday, but my parents were doctors and were on call that day. They would be home all day for Christmas, at least. Sometimes we got only one of them.

We lived in a cosy (albeit sometimes crowded with five of us) house a few miles from the town river, which was frozen over, now. My parents worked at the hospital in the next town, and were running late (again).

Soon enough, the driveway was clear of snow. I went back inside, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was just after eight, on December 22nd. The Christmas feel was all over town. Lights in the streets and in the shop windows, snow everywhere... everyone loved celebrating Christmas, here. Children were out throwing snowballs, or making snowmen, while parents sneaked around trying to hide their presents.

I glanced out the window and saw old Velma Woods in the house across the street. She seemed to be bustling about. I would have waved but knew she wouldn't see me. She'd told my mother her family were coming up for Christmas. I was glad of that. I hadn't seen Riley in years. I wondered if she'd changed. I certainly had.

I'd gone through quite the transformation in the past three years. No more braces, a lot less acne, I'd lost the few extra pounds I'd had in my youth... Now I was taller, thinner, my body was stronger thanks to lots of sport... It had taken a lot of effort, but I was relatively proud of the result.

"Harry, dear, hurry, we're already late!" My mother Helen called before turning to me. "Scott, darling, have you finished the driveway?"

"Yes, Mum." I replied, rubbing my cold hands together. "But it looks like it'll snow again soon. I might have to go at it again, later."

"Oh, if you could, that would be smashing, darling." Mum said. "Harry, dear, do hurry!"

"Coming, Helen!" came Dad's voice from upstairs.

Classic Dad. Always running late.

"Good. Come on, girls, hurry up. Now, are you sure you're all right here on your own?"

"Yes, I'll be fine, Mum, don't worry." I assured her. "The Lanes'll be here soon, I'm sure they'll need a hand setting up."

"Okay, then." Mum said.

We'd been rather good friends as kids, often playing together when she and her family came over the holidays. I remembered several very enjoyable Christmases and summers playing in the snow or by the river of Holly Bridge, from which the town had inherited its name.

"We'll be home late, so can you make sure the girls get their dinner?"

"Yes," I answered as Dad came down the stairs. "Mum, I've watched the twins before."

"True. Okay, we really have to go. We'll see you tonight, bye!"

"Love you, Mum," I said as she and Dad ushered the twins out the door.

"Love you, too, darling!"

I watched from the doorway as the car drove away. Once they were gone, I closed the door and headed up the stairs to tidy my dark hair, which never stayed still no matter how much I tried to tame it. I turned to the picture on my wall. We were thirteen, or so, I thought. It had been taken the last summer they were here. She, smaller and pretty, with her long golden brown hair tumbling down her shoulders, and I, grinning my metallic smile. As almost every time I'd seen her, she had a huge grin on her face, her eyes bright with that light of innocent, child happiness. I, next to her, looked rather chubby and awkward, trying but failing to hide my tight jeans with my large jacket... Those were times I did not miss.

She'd never struck me as self-conscious, and I'd always admired that about her. She didn't care if she looked weird, she just lived to the fullest with a smile and crazy imagination. I'd never had that kind of confidence. Even now I still worked on it. It had taken a lot for me to get there, and I still wondered if it was enough, sometimes. Just then, I heard the sound of a car slowing down outside. I looked out the window and smiled. The Lanes were here.