Hill Seeker

My story began one snowy day in my home town, Dorset, England. The year was 1916, at the local orphanage.

The orphanage was a rather pitiful old place. The weather beaten bricks were in desperate need of repair, and the minuscule garden next to it was wilted and powdered in fresh snow.

But in spite of these drawbacks, there was a distinct character to it, that seemed to invite you in. Maybe it wasn't the house itself, but the children who lived in it. Bustling about, boys and girls of all ages peacefully coexisted.

All of us has been through a lot. Losing both your parents in World War 1 is pretty scarring. But it was made a little bearable but Ms. Anne's guidance. Ms. Anne was a young eccentric lady with an intense love for children. She even loved me! Strange old Kathleen Odell. And I loved her back, with all my heart.

But Ms. Anne couldn't fill the giant hole in it that my parents had left.

Father had been missing in action for eight months, and with every passing second, I realized that he must be gone for good. But regardless, I needed to know what really happened.  I wanted closure and Ms. Anne tried her best to assist me, but caring for so many children at once made it difficult.

One night, after a particularly strange dream, I had a sudden idea. I would run away, and not come back until I had found some information, good or bad. So the next day, when everyone was eating lunch, I threw a my few meager belongings into a duffel bag and stepped out into the swirling snow. I grabbed my prize sled and walked away from my second home.

I felt a little guilty, leaving without notice. I know once they realized I was gone, they would frantically search for me. And when I returned, I would be in  so much trouble. But that didn't bother me.

As I walked, I thought of two things. One, my poor, dear mother. She was very loving and compassionate. I looked up to her and always hoped I would be like her someday. She worked at a hospital nearby for wounded soldiers. Everyday after school, I would wait at the door, watching for her to walk down to road.

One day, she didn't come home. I watched until darkness fell, and a boy with tear stained cheeks came the next day. The hospital had been bombed, with no survivors. I cried for days.

The second thing I thought about was a dream I kept having. It always took place in the same way. In the dream, I was by a hill. My father stood on it, beckoning me to him. I tried to run to him, but the dream would end in a blur, before I could reach him.

Some weird instinct in me pressed me to find the hill. So I decided to.

I walked for hours and made a lot of progress. I was a few towns over, when a bump in the snowy landscape caused me to run. I jogged, breathing heavily, op to the hill and froze. My heart sank, with the realization that this was a graveyard. I knew what to expect, but it still came as a shock to me when I saw my dear Father's name on the headstone at the very top.

"This can't be happening" I whispered as I stumbled towards it and tripped. I didn't bother to get up. What did I have to live for? My hope was completely extinguished.

"Are you alright?"

I glanced up and nearly fainted.

My mother was standing behind me with a puzzled expression.
"Mother?"

"Kathleen??!!"

She helped me struggle to me feet and we embraced.
"I've been in a hospital quite a ways away from here " she explained after we had calmed ourselves down, "I suffered from amnesia and a blow to head. I could only remember my name, so we searched for people and graves with my last name, hoping the trigger something. I didn't even think to check orphanages. We were so close to giving up. Nothing worked, but seeing you brought everything back."

She kissed my forehead and all the emotions I had felt from the past year poured out of my by way of my tear-ducts. I cried joyfully for Mother, sorrowfully for Father, angrily at the world and way. But even still, I realized just how blessed I was. There's no logical way to explain how Mother and I were brought together. It was the work of God and we both knew it.

I wiped away one last year and looked from Father's grave to Mother. She smiled and took my hand. We both internally thanked God, for giving us the hill and each other again.

Then we turned from it, and walked away.

The end!!