Hiraeth // H.S.

Chapter 1

It's currently 6:00 am and I should be lying in the comfort of my bed, anticipating my awakening so I can enjoy my last days of summer vacation, but instead I'm sitting at the police station beside an old and grouchy man who's trying to convince himself that his so called innocent son would never hurt an ant, let alone sell drugs to teenagers. And from what my barely functioning mind has gathered, the father still thinks that his son's afternoon is spent at the library seeking knowledge, not seeking a good shag.

I was distracted from the man's wails by a gentle tap on my shoulder. My gaze flitted back to the woman standing in front of me with a look of sympathy and sorrow which I absolutely despise, because even if I'm half covered in blood and I'm sure my puffy, red eyes are a dead giveaway for the hours I spent crying, I don't need anyone else's pity.

"Miss Simmons, would you like to clean up?" The sorry woman softly asked. I nodded in response because of two reasons:

a) My throat is too dry for me to bother with an answer.

b) I'm too shaken up from the previous events that had really taken a toll on me.

The lady motioned for me to follow her, which I did, into a bathroom that's barely capable of fitting one person in it. I scrubbed my skin in hopes of washing away the remnants of the now dried blood as much as I could, before finally giving up and changing from my dirty clothes to the new ones that were offered by the lady, who's job seemed pretty pointless because I think she was supposed to try and calm people down and give them clothes, but I'm still as shocked and petrified.

When I got out, I was ushered into an office where a middle aged man was seated behind a desk. I took a seat as instructed, and impatiently waited for him to speak up.

"We looked into your legal records, and found out that your only aunt happens to be your godmother as well. So we took matters into our own hands and informed her of your current situation, and she's on her way to get you." The chief confidently said, and a heat of anger flowed through me at his cocky tone and unbiased for decision.

"You don't have the right to act on your own accord. I'm an adult and I could have simply chosen what to do. I was going to say that, but you didn't have the decency to ask me." I replied a bit harshly but he deserved it.

He looked at me with a look of surprise which I'm guessing is because of my bitter answer, but then he laughed a bit like he was making fun of me, and with a voice that was even more sour than mine, retorted, "Really you're an adult, because it seems here that you're yet to even turn eighteen, which let me remind you is the "adult age" here in Canada. So we can make any decision we think is suitable for you, that is until you become an adult."

I don't like being talked to like that, or even being wrong in any situation but in this one I was. I would usually have a mean comeback or would just straight up tell him that he's rude as fuck, but honestly the energy has been sucked out of me faster than a vacuum sucks dust, and I just want to get out of here. So I just gave him one last stern look and turned away, indicating that I'm not interested in any further conversation with this douchebag and that indeed he had shut my mouth. He obviously didn't get it because he went on to discuss with me if I wanted to get back any of my belongings, which I replied to with a simple shake of my head. He made me sign some papers that prove my aunt will have full custody of me now, and that she'll be responsible for anything I will do, or will happen to me until I'm officially an adult.

I haven't seen my aunt in four years because she lives in Los Angeles and my family wasn't stable enough, money wise, to book me a flight there whenever I felt like I missed her, which to be honest never really crossed my mind. My aunt could have easily visited us whenever she pleased, because her husband died and left her with a chain of Garcia Hotels all over the world, a shit load of money that could feed every hungry person out there, and a son that even god himself can't possibly handle, and that's why I'm really not interested to see him. Let's just hope she decided that she's too busy to be a mother and just bought him a separate apartment to live in or some shit.

When my aunt arrived, or shall I say my new mom figure, the first thing I registered was how her eyes almost bulged right out and the stress marks were easily spotted on her flawless face, she seemed as pale as a dying horse. The resemblance between her and my mother was very easily seen even to the blind, which made me want to cry a little more. As soon as her blue eyes caught sight of me, she ran at full speed and rushed to hug me and I hugged her back with just as much force because even if I haven't seen her in four years, she somehow felt like home and I haven't felt that in a long while. I felt her wet, silent tears soak my bare shoulder and I immediately felt the need to cry as well but I held my tears in because I don't think the seriousness of my condition has really settled in yet, and all I feel is plain nothingness. She pulled away when that same officer called her to follow him and she gave me what was supposed to be a reassuring shake to my shoulders, but it just felt like air swooshing me from any possible emotions I should be feeling, back into numbness.

After finishing whatever business she had with the officer, my aunt came back and asked me if I was ready to leave. I nodded in reply and followed after her into the taxi that had been waiting for us outside that drove us into the airport. We arrived way too quickly although it's supposed to be like a two hour drive, but I guess I was just too preoccupied trying to register how I'm leaving the country I was born and bread in, when just yesterday I was out shopping for school materials with my closest friend. Also how I'm going without saying goodbye to everyone I know here, and that's a lot of people because even if I don't have many friends, a lot of people have been here for me and have been nice to me, so a goodbye was the least I could do to thank them.

I've always referred to Toronto as a "shitty town with fake ass people" and always had that idea that I can't wait to go live anywhere else. But now that it's actually happening, I can't help but feel like I will miss this city because no matter how many times I'll try to deny it , all my happy memories were made here and this is my home and it always will be.

After an extremely exhausting plane ride, and the most awkward, shortest conversation I've ever had with my aunt or anyone for that matter, which consisted of my aunt asking me silly questions about how I want my room to look or how much fun I'm going to have with Mason, her son, we arrived at LAX. We got outside quickly because none of us had anything to pick up from the luggage claim, because I'm guessing my aunt wasn't thinking properly for her to pack something, and just came here, and I wasn't willing to go back home and get anything, any of my belongings there can burn for all I care.

A black, shiny car which I didn't know the name of because I don't spend my time memorizing car names, was waiting for us outside. The chauffeur opened the back door and we got in. I should be marvelling at the beautiful sights that are surely in front of me because I'm at a city that I've never visited before and L.A. has always been on my bucket list, but I just couldn't find it in me to care. Only one thing was going through my empty, numb head now:

My life is changing really fast, and I have no idea how I'm ever going to cope.