The Fear of Living: A Beginning in The End {1}

Chapter 2 - Homely Visit

Raising limb and limb, from the birch porch grounds and to get up right standing. The trouble of searching for house key had begun and slowly reaching into my pockets in hope that my key was there amongst the rest of the clutter in my pockets. Nothing in the left, it was as empty as my energy to attempt searching the right. However faithfully I reached to pull out useless note and a pen from my previous lesson in school. Neither of which were my keys, neither were useful to succeed for me to be able to get into my home. Although I'd lost the outrage of a deadly swarm, my fears were higher than ever, considering I was an open target. I couldn't possibly ring Mother, she'd be working but I needed to try retain contact. Only now to remember, I'd left my backpack under the gum ridden desk at school. The current strongest of fears was being alone and with neither Mother or Molly to be seen, I was just that. With my trauma being high, I felt I couldn't cope especially with the world coming to a perfect end. That only when a smaller arm reached from the door and pulled inside the building...

Thankful, grateful feelings were merging within me, to see that geeky, younger nerd standing only ahead of me, of course it was Molly. She was unharmed and not a scratch to trace from what I could see of her and the attitude seemed to me that she was remained calm and collected, thus' making me feel somewhat better too. In wonder, I'd seen her gathering clothes.

''Cammy. I'm packing'' she said in a quieter range of tone,

and while speaking her face had dropped. She had all the more reason to be sad, as she was correct, in fact smarter than myself to think we'd need to go rather than stay like sitting chicken's in a coop, being practically bait. The fact we had to walk away from a home we had grew together in wasn't the most polite thought, but to live we'd have to survive and we both knew we were not safe here. I simply nodded to her and made my way across to my own room.

Grasping the handle to push down and I entered, and I was back in my plain, old bedroom. The room I'd miss most of all, happy memories of the enjoyment, the playing and the late nights I remembered mostly nothing about. But not thinking about the arguing, the fighting... and the day I sat blank as Father left.

I'd shacked my head and refused to let these things bug me at such a horrific crisis, falling to the floor I slid slowly but surely under my bed to grab my only suitcase of which I'd not seen since, well since Father left... did I make the right choice staying here with the family I love? I was mostly sure, but not letting such saddening memories bring me down again, I latched hold of the handle and slid back out from the dusty, creaky floor under my bed. I'd dragged it out with me and threw it at the surface of my bed, to then open and make sure it was clear, it was. Once done I pulled open the monster outs mouth that was my wardrobe and use my claw shaped arms to hold anything within reach to fill the case. Piles of clothes began to infest the case and with only clothing hangers left in the wardrobe, I was practically ready to move on. The off colour zip was pulled at each turn to then be both together at a point, the button to release the long handle was pressed and I rolled the luggage behind me.