A Collection of Stuff

Ronnie

A/N I also wrote this forever ago, I made the idea up with a friend and it's a dan and Phil fanfic? Ew??? It's so oLD

     "Veronica!"
    "Coming mum!" I yell, stuffing a white blanket with multi coloured owls on it into my duffle bag. I pushed an orca stuffed animal in, followed by a blue and orange stuffed dog.  My duffle bag had stuff for my bed and pyjamas and clothes and some bathroom stuff in a smaller bag tucked in. On my back was a backpack with my laptop, and phone, and chargers, along with multiple books.
    "Veronica!"  She calls again. I grip everything tightly and rush to the doorway, pausing to look back at the bedroom, adorned with posters and drawings and pictures. I'll miss my room, but my adventure of the summer will be better. I hitch my backpack up again with my duffle bag in my left hand. I bite my lip. I won't be sleeping in my own bed for three months.
    "Veronica Lester!" I whip my head around and rush to the staircase, which isn't far, only a few steps. Gripping the banister with my right hand I wind my way around, coming upon the second floor, then the first, then the ground floor. I take a gulp of air, before stepping down the last two, a contradiction to me jumping down them two at a time.
    "Sorry mum," I say quietly, moving my duffle bag to my right hand, clenching my left one in and out of a fist to make the burning from the duffle bag's handle go away. Suddenly mum hugged me.
    "Veronica, I love you." I smile and hug her back.
    "I love you too mum." My voice is muffled by her blouse. Suddenly I hear the footsteps of dad approaching, I pull away and hug him. He hugs tightly, making it hard to breath but he legs go and laughs.
    "I love you so much Veronica," He smiles affectionately. "I just hope that cousin of yours doesn't turn you bad." My mum slapped his arm and made a face.
    "What do you mean?" She turned to face him. "Philip is a smart young man that went to university and has a good career going for him."' She looked at me and took my shoulders in her hands. "Don't pay attention to him darling."
    "I'm telling you, that boy is a gay swine, disrespecting the church." I look at my feet for a moment uncomfortably. "Oh honey," My mother steps back as dad hugs me. "I just want my little Veronica to have God's love." I look up at mum as he hugs me.
    "And besides, Phil has had girlfriends before. Don't make assumptions, it's not healthy." She pats dad's shoulder as he stands up again. "I'd love you either way honey." She looks at me  nicely. I nod and stay silent.
    "What time does the bus come?" Dad looks at his watch. "Fifteen minutes?" He nods and turns toward to door. "Let's get going then, Helena, can you grab the keys?" Mum nods and turns grabs them off the desk beside her, tossing them in the air to dad. I laugh and rearrange the bags, walking after my father. We exit the side of the house, walking to the pavement in front.
    "You've got your pass?" Mum asks and I nod confidently.
    I'm going to leave Peterlee to go to London. I will be staying with my (awesome) cousin Phil. So dad is Phil's dad's brother, so Phil's dad is my uncle and he is my cousin. Mum and dad are doing this to: "Introduce me to different parts of the country." Newsflash mum and dad: London is more than four hours away by train. I will be in London for three months, June, July, and August. I'll stay with Phil and his flatmate Dan.
    I continuously go over this information until we are at the stop when the at the bus stop. We walk to the pole with the sign on it. It's 9:00 am sharp and the bus is due to come at 9:09. I clutch my bus pass in my hand. I'm so nervous. What if Phil acts differently at family gatherings? What if Dan doesn't like me? What if I'm too different? What if I get off at the wrong stop? As if on cue, my mother speaks.
    "Now honey,  remember: you get in this bus. Yoden Way, it's North East bound. It will take you for 20 minutes where you will get off at Asda Stand W. You'll walk for five minutes to Hartlepool Station and you go to Platform 2 and wait for the train. You'll ride for 3 hours to stop at King's Cross. Then, Phil should be there, if not, call him and stand next to a pillar." I nod, because I'm trying to remember all of the information.
    "So Asda Stand W, Hartlepool Station, King's Cross." I repeat back to her. She nods as the bus turns a corner and comes close. Suddenly mum hugs me.
    "I love you. Be careful. Call me whenever you need anything. I packed you snacks because you'll get there 'round 12." She reaches around to her purse and pulls out a leather bound notebook, it was maybe 200 pages thick and had two braided string and leather straps that snapped the cover shut. "I bought you this. Early birthday gift. Write in it whenever you want. I put your directions in her too." She kisses my forehead as the bus stopped. "I love you so much Veronica." Dad nods and kissed my head. I turned to them and then to the bus.
    I steps forward and onto the bus. I hand my pass to the driver who nods. I walk back a few seats and sit down and look at the notebook. I open the first page and see my name written in big cursive taking up the cover page. I go a page further and see the directions written in neat blue ink. I go another page to find it mostly blank. Time for your story to begin. Was written. I smile and take my backpack off.
    I unzip the top and slide the journal in and see a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. Next to that is a bag of Fritos and a container with a few chocolate chip cookies. There is a Baggie of baby carrots and a water bottle with ice water. An apple sauce container with a plastic spoon sit next to the bottom.
    I lift the wax paper to inspect the sandwich. It's Nutella and I silently thank my mum. Everyone loves it and it's mainstream, but I'm basically the only one to eats a Nutella sandwich at school. You see, I don't do things that are mainstream. For example when everyone freaked out about Mag-Con and 5 Seconds of Summer, I stayed away. That's why I'm into the less mainstream, but I guess still apparent because it's in the radio band, Fall Out Boy.
    I put back my sandwich and look out the window, my hands still in my backpack. I have to wait 20 minutes. That's do able. I look at my watch, which is navy blue with bright orange hands and the face behind it is a slightly transparent and faded Tigger. I remove my notebook again, which makes me think, when did I even out it in, and take out a black pen. The first minute fades by, tick, I write a tally mark on the lines whilst doodling the sun on the next page.
    Tally mark two.
    I colour in the sun with a yellow gel pen. I then move lower and draw bits of grass and reach to my pencil case with gel pens when I flip and tally another minute.
    Tally mark three.
    I add green to the grass and then out the pen back into the box. I draw a stem to a flower and five petals with a centre.
    Tally mark four.
    I colour the centre of the flower yellow and and the petals pink. Stereotypical. I add a black outlines leaf and add green to it.
    Tally mark five.
    I draw a dark line of black, pressing hard. I then just drew on it, and continued getting lighter and lighter until the pen output was basically none.
    Two tally marks.
    I open my pencil case again and remove a bright orange. I colour over the lines to make it a pretty ombre.
    Three tally marks.
    I put my gel pens back in the box and gaze out the window absently. I think about Phil. At Aunt Mum's house (Since I was the only and first cousin I had named Phil's mum Aunt Mum because I heard Phil call her that.) we had gone to his bedroom and he would play with Lion. His bed would be Pride Rock and Lion would be the leader. I was always a gazelle named Prancer because I galloped when I ran. Phil was always Lion, I would be his servant and go get him carrots from the vegetable plate downstairs.
    When I got a little older I wanted to be Lion. He would be a giraffe named Necks because he was tall. Then I could tell him to go and get two cupcakes and sneak them to his room. Aunt Mum always caught him and we would be scolded loosely. We would have to I eat our cupcakes in the kitchen. We would then race each other upstairs Phil yelling:
    "Ahh, Kia-enya fah la meese eey mama!" We would laugh and I would trip on a step and he would pick me up from the shoulders and hold me up and spin in circles with me screaming. We would run into his bedroom and resume out game. I remember one time the power went out because someone had parked on a slippery hill without the emergency brake on and hit a telephone pole.
    "Lion." I had whispered.
    "Yes Prancer?" He had a calm voice.
    "W-Where are you?" I was feeling around for for the bed.
    "Next to the window silly." He could see my shadow parading around the room and grabbed my hand, and pulled me to the sill. The moon was out, sparkling on the snow, it made it seem daylight outside. I smiled.
    "See Prancer? It's daylight." I shook my head and pointed to the moon.
    "It's nighttime Lion!" I whined but then he breathed on the window and drew a crude little Lion. It looked like his toy, but a comic version. I had giggled and drawn a stick figure gazelle which I named Prancer. Phil drew a cupcake between the two and soon Aunt Mum gave us a battery operated lantern and we played normally until the power was back on. It was impossible for my mind not to think if it would that easy to talk to him anymore.
    Nineteen tally marks.
    I put the marker box back in the backpack and put my journal in. I would get off the bus in a minute or so and get on a train. But first I would have to walk to the station. After a twenty two minute bus ride, it stops and I get up. I walk to the front and turn my head to the right, thanking the driver.
    I look around for signs, that is until I spot a big building with the sign: 'Hartlepool Station.' It doesn't seem like a 5 minute walk but I find myself at the front steps five minutes later. I continue up the steps, my heart pounding. Everyone is looking at me. I swear. I'm the only kid here. They are going to ask me questions and I won't be able to respond. What if someone kidnaps me. No one will ever find me. I wish they'd stop looking at me. Aren't they all staring. It feels like they are. Why won't they just go away. There are too many people. It's too crowded here. That woman is judging me, I know it. I'm the only child in the station. What if a policeman comes and asks me where my parents are. What would I do.
    I grip my duffle bag tighter and walk into the station, hitching up my backpack. I go to platform 2, right? Right, I confirm. I make my way to the station and get on the waiting train. The trainman nods to me and then glances at me and smiles. I go and sit at a seat and look out the window. This won't be a simple 20 minute bus ride nearly alone. This will be a two hour southward venture on a train full of people.
    I pull my backpack 'round and look inside of it. I take out the journal again and a gel pen. It's a raspberry coloured pen and I add an absurd about of ink before slamming it closed and then carefully opening it to see an identical flower on the other side. Success. The flower on the other page is blotchy sure, but it still resembles a flower. I look out the window to the station full of people.
    "Hello dear," I look around. An older lady, maybe 60, with cream coloured hair, is standing next to the seat. She has a scarf wrapped around her neck, despite it being warm now that it was the beginning of June. She has on a jumper that's tan, a few shades darker than her hair.