London Calling

Chapter One

My palms were sweaty against the brown leather couch as I anxiously await for my mother to open her mouth and address me. My father was no where to be found. Probably at work, because that’s all he seemed to care about. I tried to tell myself a lie. My head was prepared for what my mother was going to say, but not my heart. I’ve been through this situation so many times that it’s recognizable. My eyes fastened on my fragile mother. Her blue eyes looked worried as they stared right back at me. I saw her glance away as her eyes set upon the ancient coffee table to her left. In seconds of my mother opening her wide mouth, my whole world came to a halt. My immediate reaction was to throw something that was close in my reach. In short time, I decided that the Japanese Cherry Blossom candle that sat upon the ancient coffee table was the best idea. I watched as the glass shattered against the hardwood floor. I stared back at my mother and watched as that look of distraught danced upon her face. And with that, I bolted up the stairs without missing a beat. Once I had reached the top step, I dashed for my bedroom immediately.

“No!” I screamed as I slammed grand egg-coloured door behind me. The anger and adrenaline flowed through my veins as my back slowly slid down the door and felt the uncomfortable feel of my t-shirt sticking to my back.

“You can’t make me, not again!” I shouted. I could feel my voice losing its touch already, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything at the moment, especially my parents.  I brought my knees up to my chest and buried my head. In seconds, I heard my mother scurry up the hardwood stairs. She came to a halt at my bedroom door. Just by her voice I could tell that she was in tears.

“Please, Sabrina,” my mother spoke calmly. “Let me talk to you, please! Open the door!” she replied with a faint knock at my door.

It took me a couple of moments to regain my sanity before replying. I loved my mother. I loved her very much, but at the moment, I wouldn’t mind giving her an exchange of words. A took a deep breath and decided to not be too vulgar with her. After all, she was my mother. I gripped my hands on the beige carpet below me before replying.

“No! Go away, mom! You promised me, you promised! You said we were going to stay here for good! I finally get to see the place I was born and we move already? It hasn’t even been three solid months! You can’t do this to me!” I screeched as I made a fist and punch the door. Ouch– that hurt. But I didn’t care. 

“Sabrina,” she huffed, “please open the door. You know the reason for our move, do you not? Your father’s job requires him to move every so often. Honey, I know what you’re going to say next, but your father’s job puts food on the table. It gives us a roof over our head. I am sorry, I really am,” she sighed as she leaned onto the door.

Without a second to waste, I say, “Ever since I was five years old, you promised me that you would take me to Canada and we would live here for good. You said that we would stay in the country that I was born in, the country that our family is in, and now it’s all gone? Where are we even moving to, anyways?” I replied in a faint voice as I wiped the tears with my index finger.

“England, honey! London! Haven’t you always wanted to go there?” she spoke with such positivity. London, I thought. What was so special about that place that we had to move?  I have always wanted to go visit London, with myself being a gigantic Harry Potter fan, Doctor Who fan, and Merlin fan– but moving there? Away from my home, from where I was born?

“When are we leaving?” I asked, with my voice much calm this time around.

“In three days, dear.” I felt my stomach drop. Three days? Three days? I moved my neck back and felt the door hit me right above the head. Ouch– that hurt, again.