~✽~
-Nicholas Fletcher-
I moaned, half asleep, as we finally got to the place we would be staying at. It was considerably small, and looked more like a little cottage. It was located on a not-so-crowded street which would make it more difficult to find mom, but dad insisted we'd be better off here. The roof was made of mouldy, red brick, the cement walls were a creamy, peach colour, with the paint chipping off here and there. Well, I still am thankful that we finally arrived. I just couldn't stand that over-packed, smog-spewing, metal hunk of junk, that was otherwise called a train. The ride was all bumpy, and the seats were cold, rigid, and uncomfortable.
I stared at our new, temporary house. The inside was all musty, packed with old furniture, and fluffy, dust-covered rugs.
"We've a lot of cleaning up to do, kids." Said dad, with his hands on his hips, receiving a simultaneous groan from me and my sister.
We set our bags down, looked around, and sighed. I could tell everyone missed our old place already. But hey, this is nothing as long as we get to find mom. Diana rested herself against a shelf, which unfortunately crumbled to pieces under her weight, earning a laugh from me.
"I am not that heavy. This stuff is just old and stupid." She said with a grunt, kicking the already-broken shelf, and injuring her own foot in the process.
"Stop mucking around kids, and get yourselves settled. We'll fix up just the bedrooms for now so you can get a good night's sleep. Save the rest for tomorrow." lectured dad.
Me and Di dragged our stuff to the rooms, all while mumbling words of protest. We now have to actually share a room.
Ew.
-Diana Fletcher-
I stomped into one of the rooms, with my stupid, annoying, luggage, and my stupid, annoying, brother. I can't believe I need to stay in the same room as him. It's genuinely cringe-worthy. I can't even bring myself to think about it.
And yet here I am, with this irritating slob. I heaved out a sigh and set my things in the corner. It's all for mom, I reminded myself.
It's all.
For.
Mom.
When morning came, we were extremely reluctant to get off our beds. We had spent the whole night cleaning up that one room, in our already exhausted state. Now, we're going tohave to clear up the rest of the house, all while suffering the pain of an aching back.
I feel sorry for dad, who had to do his room all alone. But I was still not sorry enough to go, try and help him. I was tasked with the ridiculous job, of being forced to pull my brother out of his bed, or die trying.
He was so mad by the time I was done bashing him with pillows and pulling his legs (literally), but eventually, it did the trick. Then, we spent hours cleaning up the kitchen and the living room, just in time for an amazing, home-cooked lunch, as a reward from dad for working so hard. We downed the chicken in one go. Despite being in the army starting from a young age, dad always had a couple dishes he knew how to marvellously whip up, recipes he studied back when he was a kid.
After lunch we remained seated around the rotting, mahogany, dining table, to discuss how we were actually going to find mom. We came up with all sorts of different ideas. I sketched out some portraits of what mom would look like, using descriptions from both dad and Nico. I remembered to make her look thinner and paler, taking into account that she would look more worn after all this time, along with the after-effects of the catastrophic war, of course.
Not to brag, but I am a pretty good artist, so the result ended up being pretty good, although it was tiring to create multiple copies of the same, exact drawing. It took many hours, but I was done by the evening. Dad said he would go out alone today, just to scout around, ask questions, and put up these drawings, where people can see them. Sadly, none of us knew the place very well, which would definitely make finding her, harder than usual.
Me and dad pressed Nico for information since he was the closest to her out of us, but he only recalled smaller fragments of helpful content out of his erratic memories. He promised to keep thinking, and I continued to make more posters so dad could place them around.
-Nicholas Fletcher-
It's been about two hours since dad left with Di's first batch of drawings. He should be back anytime now, since it was getting pretty late. I peered out of the old window, and noticed a cobweb still lingering by the corner, I was the one who was supposed to clean the windows. Darn. Better hope no one else sees that.
My eyes drifted outside, to the evening streets, damaged, but beautiful, even amidst the ruin. This tiny city is still pretty run down, but has its own kind of beauty. The type of beauty you'd long to capture in pictures, not because it was some glow-y, happy moment, but because you can see all the time and effort people have put, into rebuilding their lives after the war took it all from them, ever-so-slowly. A group of girls skirted past, among all the people returning home from a long, tiring day of work. A little boy was throwing crumbs to a little puppy that sat hungrily on the side, barking in delight as he received his treat.
That made me smile.
I saw dad turn down the far corner of the street. That area kind of reminded me of a painting from this one artist-Van Gogh, I believe. It had some fancy name that I don't remember, but it depicted a cosy, pebbled street, with a little café like area, with a long rug spread out in the open, and people sitting around. There also were some short buildings that surrounded the area, if I recall correctly.
He walked in through the front door, his now empty hands, covered in dirt and muck, with the occasional miniscule scab here and there. His face was worn out, and weary. I could tell he worked really hard today.
"Any news?" I asked him, as he concentrated on untying his torn, mud-caked, boots to take them off.
"Not a hint on where to find her. This place is vast and crowded. It may take several months before we even get any word from the streets." he said exasperatedly, with a long, heavy sigh.
I averted my eyes to floor. I'm not sure what I was expecting, really. I knew we wouldn't be able to find one woman in such a huge place in one day. It's pretty silly of me, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment wash over me like a wave. Feeling a familiar sting at the back of my eyes, I quickly averted my gaze and moved away from dad, in hopes of him not noticing my eyes glisten over.
