*COMPLETED* || Highest Ranking: #1 in Adventure-Romance 5/31/18
Adeline Callahan, the girl that time forgot, the one that is considered dead to the public, struggles day after day opening her eyes. She struggles day after day getting up and paci...
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"Let it go, catacombs, you let her go."
-—–- The train stops completely, rails screeching and our bodies lurching.
"We're here," Cole says, a certain gladness embedded in his tone. We stand up, I gather the back pack together and as I'm about to sling it over my shoulder, Cole stops me.
"I'll take that," he clamps a hand around the strap and takes it, and I playfully roll my eyes at him.
"Whatever," I mockingly scoff.
Cole just laughs, a grin taking over his face. "You ready?"
I nod, and place my hand in his, padding to the edge of the halted train, staring over. We leap together, landing onto the rocky concrete below, my feet tingle from the sudden impact.
"Come on, we have to go before they see us," Cole ushers me forward, unwilling to stop. I take a quick glance back and see an unloaded giving us a curios look while holding a crate. I turn my head back, focusing now on where I'm walking.
Up ahead, there's a small town, but in the background there's the familiar city skyscrapers of Boston.
"You lead the way," Cole says, now falling in step beside me. I nod, and walk down the familiar path I used to with my mother, when she was still here. We used to take long walks with one another, and the loading docks used to be a place we'd walk by, so I know the way to get back well.
The only question is, is my house still where it was twelve years ago? Has someone moved into it, or has it remained untouched?
We stroll down the sidewalk, passing shop fronts and other people in their everyday clothes. Their wandering eyes land on my walking figures, I feel them boring holes into my back as I pass them, but I don't care.
I don't know if it's because of how I look, or if it's because they recognize me. After what happened, The Owners told me that I became Cambridge's "Lost Girl" and that everyone knew who I was...but how do they know what I look like now. I was five then, and I'm seventeen now, how do they still recognize me?
We jaunt past familiar street signs, and now I can see my neighborhood from afar, the houses lining up one by one, all painted different shades of beiges, grays, browns, and blues, creating a perfect combination and mix of colors.
We take a turn around the last street block, now fully in the nice, up kept neighborhood. It looks the same from when it was all those years ago...it all looks the same, as if it was untouched by time.
"It's just up here," I state, pointing a finger to the right. The trees and two story houses tower over us as we walk down the sidewalk, closer to my home that I lived in for five years before everything was ruined. Leaves scatter the front yards of the nice, vintage looking homes.
We cross the street, our hands still intertwined. My eyes flicker, finding my old home and my eyes narrow on it once I find it, the memories coming back fast.
"There it is," I breathe. I start at a jog and run up the cracked driveway, the same yard signs stuck in the stained clay flower pots. I stride up the porch, the same patio furniture and "Welcome" rug spread across the floor.
My eyes begin to get glassy as my vision blurs. I pivot on my heel to face Cole who has a hand on the wooden porch pillar.
"It's all the same."
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