The boy next door

Chapter One: Mariana- "The ugly hoe who lived next door"

Chapter One: Mariana- "The ugly hoe who lived next door"

I hate goodbyes.

I knew this day would come eventually, but I wasn't mentally or emotionally prepared. My mother—who I wasn't really the closest with, but still loved to death— was leaving for London for the six months.

The entire situation infuriated me. My mother worked late nights at her job, and would come back home at sunrise. This meant she barely had any time to spend or connect with me or my two other siblings. Now, the one time she gets the week off she discovers that her business branch has moved to London. We lived in Canada. It sucked, big time.

Damn you, London.

My younger brother and sister- Aidan, aged fifteen, and Selena, aged nine, waved goodbye at my mother as she rode up the escalator in the airport. She gave us a polite wave back, and a quick blow kiss.

We were staying with my Aunt Emily— who was also present at the airport— for the next couple of months. The thing with Aunt Em, was that she wasn't our biological Aunt. She was my mother's best friend. We all called her our Aunt, because she has basically been a second mother to my younger siblings and I.

Ever since Mom got that job that I hated more than life itself, she's never really been around that much. It hurt, but there wasn't much I could do.

So that left us with Aunt Em, who lived in a a spacious two-story house in a friendly and quiet neighbourhood, twenty minutes away from ours.

Every single second spent with Aunt Em was definitely Memorable. Growing up, she would teach us a lot about where she grew up and her culture.

It was like this- My family were Spanish and Aunt Em was Asain, specifically South Korean.

At home our mother would tell us about our roots, where she grew up and about our culture. She would do this as much as she could, so we 'wouldn't forget where we came from'.

When we came to Aunt Em's house she would teach us about her culture and where she grew up, to cooking us her delicious Korean dishes ( my favourite being Kimchi) and listening to some classy Korean music.

Both cultures were definitely something to be very proud of.

Matter of fact, I grew up around many different cultures and races-

Before Aunts Em's black South African husband joined the Military, he taught me a few bits and pieces that I could just barely remember—Because I was so young—about his South African culture and traditions.

Unfortunately, I haven't seen Uncle Ken in about eight months. I missed the old sport.

"I'm going to miss mommy" My younger sister whined, barely wrapping her small arms around my waist.

"Don't worry amor, she'll be back before you know it." I kissed the top of her blonde hair.

My heart ached a little when I watched my mother turn back one last time with her signature sweet smile, and waved goodbye to her family-

"Goodbye" she mouthed.
"Bye" we all replied.

And then she was gone.