That Lost Feeling {OUAT fan fiction}

Chapter 1

I’m sitting in a seat on the porch of my house. My house. I’ve finally moved out of my fathers house yesterday. This was going to be my second day here. And I can’t really say that I’m homesick. You have no idea how happy I am for being away from my dad and having my own place.

My own home.

Tomorrow is my twenty-second birthday and until yesterday I still lived with my father. If my life had been normal I would’ve moved out years ago.

But it isn’t that easy for me. Not since five years to be exact.

To be honest my life was pretty easy before then. Well as teenager you never admit how easy things are,  you only drag along about all your difficulties with school, you friends and parents. But it was easy even though I’ve never said it out loud. I had a family, nice friends and a place I called home.

But one morning before I went to school, I woke up from the doorbell. I pulled up my pillow to cover my ears, trying to block out the muttering voices coming from downstairs. But the voices got louder every few seconds, but I still couldn’t hear what they were saying or who was there. Now I was pretty much awake I got curious. Who would visit us at seven am? That didn’t make sense and there was no-one I could think of who could, so I got dressed in a simple hoodie covering my ugly old shirt and headed downstairs.

I sneaked down at first because I was planning on listening at the door, but one of the steps creaked under my bare feet so I stopped trying and walked into the living room without a second thought.

I wished now I hadn’t. I should have known better, I should’ve known something terrible had happened. But I hadn’t and there was nothing I could change about it now.

I had walked into the room half smiling to who ever had come to visit us. But my smile faded quickly when I saw two police officers standing next to my father, who was crying his heart out. My stomach twisted and I felt the urge to puke. Something had happened. I had seen enough detectives to know that these kind of scenes weren’t good.

Then dad stepped towards me and pulled me in his arms. That’s when I knew. I didn’t even asked, I just cried with him forgetting all about the police officers, forgetting all about school, only thinking about the fact that my mom wasn’t here right now. And I knew she would never be again.

When both my father and I calmed down a bit, I asked what had happened. The officers told me my mother had an terrible car crash. She had driven right into a tree. She had been dead instantly. They assured us they would look right into it.

But the time went on and nothing happened. The medical examiners had said in the report that there was no sign of blood forced trauma or any other sign that would explain her death. There were also no tracks suggesting she had braked while the officers said she would be perfectly able to because there was nothing wrong with the car. There was no other explanation.

The case was thereby closed and marked as suicide.

And it didn’t make sense. My mother was a happy woman, having a nice husband and a strong, sometimes a little edgy, teenage daughter. There was no reason for her to kill herself. The only thing I could think of was that I didn’t knew her that well as I had thought I did. And that made me feel terrible.

I wanted to leave the house with all the good memories as soon as I could. I couldn’t stand it in the house where I had spend my entire happy childhood, where I could still see my mom cooking in the kitchen, where my mom had cut my hair when I was little, where I caught my parents making out on the couch when I was older. All the good and the bad memories, where nothing more than that.