There was never a specific day that they told me. Of course, there really was no need for The Announcement - I knew already, and had known for what seemed like years. In the beginning, it was exotic, new and inticing. Naturally, I was intrigued; interested in this whole new world that had exisited under my nose, and it was only now that I was to experience it.
But it was only too late that I realised I wanted no part of it at all.
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"Hats, scarves and gloves, people - it's pretty chilly out there!"
We all stood to attention, one by one wedging wolly hats over our hair, tugging them below our ears and looping itchy scarves around our necks. Gloves encased stony hands, skin eagerly anticipating the imminent temperature plunge once we went out the door. It was time for a walk, it had been decided: a good, healthy way to start the new year.
I grinned at Grace standing next to me; despite a poor nights rest I felt fresh, ready. There was something about late nights that gave me an awake feeling, whereas after a full sleep I'd be more tired, waking up with eyes as small as a mole's, squinting against the light. She returned my smile, pulling her own hat over her head; it mussed up her long brunette hair, fringe twisted back in her trademark style to prevent it flopping into her eyes.
"I am soooooo tired!" she announces, yawning as if to prove her fatigue to everyone. I giggled, agreeing: "sames," although I didn't feel the same way.
Mum breezed past, brandishing car keys and a box of sandwiches prepared for lunch. We had hastily jammed them together this morning after all the adults had had their little 'get together' this morning, held up in my parent's bedroom since the sofas downstairs had been occupied by two snoring teenage boys. After a wild new years party last night and a sparse two hours sleep we all thought a walk to be the best thing to do, since we were all wide awake and didn't have sleepy limbs and half-closed eyes.
Not.
"Where are we goooinnnng?" James pestered, shooting glances at Mum as if she'd be able to interpret the fact that he hated walks just from his wide, brown eyes. He was such a moaner, my little brother, badgering everyone about everything pretty much every minute of the day. To his credit, he had had an especially bad sleep, so he probably wasn't in the best state of mind to function with all good manners intact; half three in the morning was much too late for a nine-year-old to go to bed, in my opinion.
"The New Forest." Mum answered, bending in half to tie her laces.
"Whhyyyy?"
"Because we're going for a walk."
"Whyyy?"
"Because we are."
"But why a walk?...why not a lie in or-"
"Because we are, James, and that's that."
"Can I stay at home?"
"No." I could tell Mum was in her 'no-nonsense' mode. I was sure she'd loosen up once we were out the house - I knew not getting things going irked her - but still, I hoped she didn't stay like that all morning. It'd drain my mood - and besides, Grace was going home after the walk anyway. I probably wouldn't see her for another couple of months after, well, now, so I ought to make the most of my time with the one person I was most similar to.
I have known Grace for about six years; not that long, but long enough for us to feel like sisters. We went on camps together as children, and from what I can remember we always tried our best to look the same, even going to the extent of tye-dyeing our t-shirts the same colour and choosing the exact same lunch from the buffet table. Not only do we have the same hair, style and size, but we also connect through our personalities and interests with which we share. We both enjoy art and listen to the same artists, and naturally get on well - the only difference I can identify would be the fact that she is awesome at P.E... whereas I am not. Bottom set has been my constant, through year seven, to year eight to year nine...and so on. You get the picture.
"Where are we going again?" Grace queried me, her eyes sliding over her younger brother Timmy who was chasing his shoes down the stairs. He'd stayed the night on the floor in my brother's room along with his parents, and despite waking up bleary eyed and grumpy, he now seemed rejuventated after his jammy toast this morning. His seven-year-old enthusiasm was infectious, and I smiled: "New Forest, if I'm remembering the last eight times Mum's yelled it. I'm confused as to why on earth we haven't left yet. We began getting ready at least half an hour ago..." Grace rolled her eyes. "It's my Dad. He slept in agaaaainnn..." She huffed but in a humourous way, as if indictating her Dad had done so many times before.
From the look on her face, he had.
