Fall's Breeze

Chapter 1: Autumn

New York City. A place that I am sure many young people dream of living in and going to college, where they think dreams come true all the time. Well, they're wrong. It's ugly and boring and dirty and... it reminds me too much of my dad. That horrid man just left me and mom for this other overweight, annoyingly stupid lady named Patricia and her hairy sons James and Johnny. I glance over at nightstand with a couple of trinkets and a photo frame. I scowl and knock it off of the hard surface and cry into my soft pillow. It was a picture of dad throwing me up into the air and me laughing with my eyes closed. I thought he loved me, but not enough if he had no shame in divorcing mother, marrying Patricia, and then not calling me or picking up when I called him. I rub my eyes and stand up, my face wet and glossed with tears and my pillow drenched. Mother knocks on the door gently, even though it was already cracked open a bit because of all the boxes in my room. We'd just moved to our new apartment a few days ago; a plain, two-room flat with a small kitchen and barely any space for a TV and some portable chairs. "Honey, how's it going with unpacking all those boxes? Do you need a hand?" she asks in her sweet voice that said, 'I know something's wrong'. I sigh slowly and open the door with my foot. "Sure, you can help.." I groan, my face still buried in my pillow. I could hear mother carefully approaching my bed, probably to sit beside me and coax out whatever was going on in my mind. But she just stares blankly at the window. I look up at her, frowning. Since the day father left, her once cheerful expression had disappeared, and I wondered if true happiness would ever light up her face again. My mother's long and wavy strawberry blonde hair was tied up into a messy bun and she wore a stretchy, red headband with a small bow. She was a tall and slim woman and already had a few strands of gray hair mixed in with her golden pink-ish hair. Her slightly olive skin was a bit more wrinkled than normal today, her bright blue eyes staring into the nothingness of the world.

She shakes her head and stands up, fake excitement on her face. Mom smiled widely, but I knew it was just an act, so I wouldn't worry about her. "Okay, time to get to work!" she exclaims, in her naturally hoarse voice soothing me. Trying to smile, I nod and bend forward to pick up a small brown, cardboard box, letting my light blue hair fall in front of me. Like my mother, I had slightly olive skin and blue eyes but they were slightly green, like my father who had lime eyes and messy brown hair. Originally, I too had brown hair, but I dyed it blue after pop married Patricia. I close my eyes and think of other things that wouldn't remind me of dad, and open up the first box. It has a few mini-figures, some of my violin books, my bag, and a little card from my old violin teacher, Viola. I was reminded of the sweet yet sad smile on her face on the day I left, how she cared about me, and always would know if something was wrong. I still hated father for forcing us to move to New York so he could keep their original home for himself and Patrica. Then I notice the photo frame that I had thrown off my nightstand a few minutes ago, and carefully pick it up. The glass had a few cracks and the photo was ripped slightly in the top right corner. Mother glances at me, then the frame in my hand, then back at me. "Honey, what's that in your hand?" she asks, suspicious. I know that this picture had been one of my mother's favorites. I gulp, worried she would be furious, as she came towards me. I move backward but bump into the wall, and Mother was right in front of me. "Autumn, show me," she says seriously. I bite my lip and look down ashamed, before handing the photo to my mom. She covered her mouth, and let out a small gasp, making my cheeks burn. She looks at me and shakes her head, and for a second, I think she is going to yell at me, but instead, she just hugs me hard and weeps silently. My's eyes widen, but I let myself melt into her embrace, and close my eyes. "Why did he have to leave us?" I whisper into her ear, not being able to hold myself back from asking the question. Mother stays silent for a few moments, before answering. "I don't know honey, I don't know.." she cries softly. I squeeze my eyes shut and hug her. She was shaking with sobs, and I probably was too. She had stayed strong the whole time, I knew she would have to break at some point. I hold my mother's hand and look into her eyes. And at the moment, I know we are both thinking the same thing. "We'll heal mom, together, bit by bit..." I whisper, smiling with tears in my eyes.