Secrets In A Box

"Carlie we're here."

I stayed motionless, ignoring my mother, listening to music through my headphones.

I never wanted to move from London. This was all about her, everything. Even though I objected, she ignored me as usual. So what if she suddenly felt clastraphobic of the city.

Who cares. I grew up there, I went to school there, I had my first boyfriend there. I had my first kiss there. I had my whole future planned out.

But this was before Dad died. It was him that brought in the money... And the bills.

He never told us about the betting... And the losing. He planned to repay them all by becoming self employed and he would have.

If he didn't decide to go out for a drive. And if that motorcyclist didn't have that extra drink of beer...

"Carlie do not ignore your mother!"

Snapping out of my thoughts a opended the car door and stumbled out.

She lost the right to be my mother a long time ago.

Our beat up Honda Civic was parked in front of a big house. It was impressive but, I was confused how we could afford it.

Looking closely, I could see the grey paint peeling off and the broken windows. Touche, we're broke and the house is broke-n.

The mansion has probably been vacant to years, that would explain how we could afford it.

I mentally laughed at my sad joke.

Realising that my so-called-mum needed help, I walked back to the car.

Her pathetic attemps of carrying three baskets of item and a large suitcase were in vain.

"Help me Carlie" She asked with a tired look on her face.

It seems so weird that only a year ago, she was the brightest person giving up, literally radiating energy.

Pushing those thoughts away, I grabbed the suitcase and turned towards the building.

I should have known mum would choose a place like this, she loves renovating things and fixing them.

Every house has the right to be a home, she used to say to me when I was little.

This place probably was going to be a home but not to us, we wouldn't be able to afford it. Probably after she fixes it up, we'll be selling it to repay the debts our 'dear' father has left us.

Left us to clean up his mess. How unfair. I learn't quickly how unfair life can be.

Walking in, I realized the door was unlocked, the inside was pretty impressive, or was.

The entrance had a stone pillar that was probably once white. There was a huge staircase that flared outwards, covered with a red rug, now a deep sharde of marroon and so many holes that made it look like a hippy gone wild with the a style of polkadot.

The ceiling had a huge chandelier covered with a thin see though cover that was covered with spider webs and bird nests.

There was an armour set that needed a good polish and the floor was stone, with patterns etched into them.

There was only one painting on the wall right in the middle, suprisingly it was in very good condition, as if someone tended to it daily.

Even the brass was shining. The painting was of a girl with blonde ringlets with deep blue eyes that was framed by thick lashes.