Turning tables on a Cliche

Chapter 1

Lily's Point of view.

The smell of rain still lingered on the hot pavement, as the sun appeared from behind the marshmallow-pink clouds. Red sky in the night, Sheppard's delight I thought. I pulled the sleves of my dark green, cable knit, v-neck over my wrists, keeping the cool air from biting my hands. The sound of cars in the distance danced around my earlobes, creating a sanctuary, my sanctuary. I sat on the bench, the metal armrests still freezing from the cold autumn day we’d had in Blaenavon. I took no notice of the forest that was behind my back. I took no thought of the animals that could be lurking inside, or if there would be any strange people walking in there, because here, I felt safe. Just me, the two perfectly similar lakes and the stream that ran through the side of the area. 

I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in the cool air, feeling the warm air on my lips as I let it out again. Blaenavon was a small town. A small town with many people. All very different from one another. You had teens, people in their 20’s 30’s 40’s all the way up to their dying age, but the town wasnt quiet at night. The pubs were open and groups of teenagers covered the corners, praying that police wouldnt turn up and check their back packs. The only place to stay away from all of the god awful music and the unwelcoming sound of drunken laughter was here. Dont get me wrong, the town was fun when youre in a group, like when I’m with my friends, but not when you just want to relax, stay away from civilisation for a while. 

Autumn had broken through about a week ago, when the leaves had began to become a darker green, the same colour as my jumper. They’d soon began to fall, crisping on the floor by the church and around the gravel path of the picknick area. The cool air had become to make the mountains look beautiful, and the landscape looked like an oil painting when the sun was out. Autumn was my favourite time of year. When you couldn’t get away with wearing shorts or a skirt without some form of tights, because the south of Wales was far to cold. When you could step on the leaves and hear the satisfying sound of them under your army boots. Parker jackets and beanies. It was the time of year when everything felt cozy and perfect. 

I checked the time on my phone, it was only 6:14pm. I stood up, breaking my thoughts, and wandered up towards the bridge that crossed the stream, then the other bridge that used to lead to the mining shaft. I walked up the long, bending, concrete path that lead to the railway line that hadn’t been running for a couple of years. I thought back to when I was little, my Mum, Dusty - our dog - and I would take walks up here, Id always insist on walking only on the planks of wood on the railway track, not wanting to scag my shoes on the grey rocks in between them. I did exactly that, pretending I was five years old again, placing my feet firmly on the worn out wood, one after another, smiling at my childishness and the way that nostalgia took over my whole mind, taking over my thoughts and feeling like nothing could ever break that memory away from me, like a mother from their child.

As the railroad changed course, I placed my leg over the stile, jumping down onto the concrete footpath. I saw a few flowers on the side of the road, their vibrant violet colour slowly dying down, becoming more and more pastel coloured by the day. I walked past the road, checking for cars as I crossed over to the lake, yes, I know, there are a lot of lakes here, ok. There were a few people walking. An elderly man, wearing a grey fleece and a farmers cap, walking his jack russel around the bitterly ice cold water. Two teenagers, a year or two younger than me walking hand in hand, laughing in complete happiness of having eachothers company. I was their age when I met Bobbie. Always got told that fourteen was too young to know what feelings meant when it came to boys. There were a couple with a toddler, their arms draped over one another, looking as if they knew that they would be together until death. I smiled to myself, thinking of all the aspects of life that people take for granted. Love, laughter, friends. They’re all things that we think we’ll always have, so we don’t appreciate them.