{[(Solmate)]}

Chap.1; My Condolences, Miss Bowman

Picture above is kind of San La Dola. Picture more city-like.
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I was seven when my mother passed.

I was dancing with my teddy bear, Mr. Fluff, when my mom called,"Alee, come down here." My mom always called me Alee.

I was instantly worried. Her voice sounded pained and forced. "Mom, what's going on," I said, walking down the stairs quietly. I peered over the banister, and what I saw almost made me run back upstairs.

Someone had broken our beautiful glass front door, ran through our kitchen where my mother was, grabbed her, and tied her neck to a chair so tight she couldn't breathe. I let out a choked sob. I didn't know what to do. After all, I was seven.

"D-darling, c-c-come here." She was pulling a the ropes with all her might, veins popping out of her arms. I immediately ran over.

"Mommy," I shrieked, "Mommy, what happened!"

She put a finger over my mouth, and her hand ran through my hair. At this point both of us were in tears. I didn't know what to do, and she knew I didn't. I called my dad and 911. My dad got there before the ambulance did.

"Alena, what's wrong? Where are you?" My dad had never sounded this worried in his life.

"M-mommy is tied up! In-in the kitchen! He-hel-help," I screeched.
He ran in and took in the sight. My mom tied up, now barely breathing, and me, just kneeling there, sobbing and telling her sorry over and over, like it was the mantra that would save her life. We must have looked like hot messes.

Dad ran straight for the knife drawer. I was never aloud in there, but apparently Dad was, because he got out the largest knife and started cutting the ropes. He cut one by one, and it seemed to take years. But he did cut them all.

Thankfully, just days after, my mom was alive, and getting better. She had a really rope burned neck and trouble breathing, but she survived.

She died a week later when her lungs collapsed.

The doctors say it was from the pressure of the rope against her neck, and the lack of breathing she had while in that situation. Me and my dad didn't sleep for a week, because I didn't have a mom now, and he didn't have a wife. We cried every morning and cuddled every night for a month. And for a year, we reminisced about the good times we had with her. For seven years, my dad was developing Sol.

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"Thank you everyone, for coming to the first meeting of Sol. I hope you enjoy our presentation." Me and my dad looked at each other and crossed our fingers together in an 'X' shape. This was our way of silently saying, I hope this works.

"Sir, I hope you know your daughter has to stay outside."
My dad at him helplessly. I was nearly the co-creator, and my dad liked people to know this. My dad was still staring at the man, but he eventually gave in.

"Alena, go wait outside, darling. I'll be out in a few." I nodded silently. I understood. I walked out, and waited patiently, in the sad white halls.

After about an hour, I started thinking about my mother. I was 14 now, and thought of her every day. A lone tear dripped down my face, and as fast as I could I wiped it away. I needed to stop crying. It wasn't going to get me anywhere.

As soon as I wiped my tear away, a man walked past. He didn't look like he belonged in this building, he was my age and dressed in ripped jeans and a graphic tee. He had a beanie on top of his brown curly hair. The mysterious boy was about my age, too. He started walking past me, and then stopped. I must've sniffed, or maybe let another tear slip, because he sat down next to me and side hugged my small frame.

"Stop crying," he whispered. I scooted away. "Um, who the hell are you." He chuckled.

"You seemed sad, and I don't let people stay sad. What's wrong." He said it as more of a statement than a question.

"Just, my mom died a long time ago and I haven't quite gotten over it."

"Oh, my condolences-quick, give me your name," he jokingly whispered. I laughed quietly. "Ms. Elena Bowman," I stated in an overly posh accent.
"My condolences, Ms. Bowman," he said very sarcastically, and I laughed out loud, but I stopped when I remembered why he was saying that.

"I'm serious, though. I'm sorry."
"It's ok. What's your name," I asked. I wanted to remember his name.

"Alex Christanson."

"Ok, cool. Um, well, bye, I guess?" He was standing up slowly and stretching.

"Alrighty then, that was fun. Bye," he said, and skipped off down the hallway. I laughed quietly to myself. I gotta remember, Alex Christanson, Christanson of the Alexes.

Suddenly, the door beside me opened, and I was held in warm arms. I laughed, knowing what just happened.

"Honey, someone wants to make Sol happen. We did it."
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Hello.
That was a long chappie in my opinion.
So
Oh, you're still here. Ok.
Lol no don't leave me stay.
Here, have some chips.
Oh, not those chips, sorry.

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