Hazels P.O.V
Leaving was never an option.
It had never been a consideration, not even a fleeting thought. Home, despite its darkened corners, was where I belonged - the place etched with memories shared with him, the backdrop of our childhood. The ghosts of the past still lingered, stinging, but abandoning it all was unimaginable.
"We can't keep clinging to the past; the longer we do, the deeper the hole we'll have to climb out of," Dad had said when he announced our departure. He felt the emptiness too - the hollowness of the walls, the yawning chasm in their marriage, the deafening silence that lingered after his departure.
It was all too evident, and yet the reality terrified us to confront. But not Dad - he was resolute.
There was one final stop before we reached our destination: New York City, the place Dad called his "other home." To me, it was a foreign land. I had never ventured beyond our provincial borders, and now I found myself not only leaving the home I'd grown up in, but the country I called home.
"That's our ride," Dad said, nodding towards a sleek Mercedes-Benz GLE 350. Earlier, he had mentioned a close friend who would be picking us up, but in my daze, I had forgotten the name. Now, I was too busy admiring the luxurious vehicle to recall the details.
As we approached, a chauffeur emerged, swiftly gathering our luggage as we stepped into the car.
"He's rich?" I whispered conspiratorially to Dad, unable to contain my surprise.
"Loaded," Dad replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Since when do you have loaded friends?"
"Since long before you came along," he said, ruffling my hair in that familiar way that evoked memories of my younger self. Though I was frustrated with him at that moment, I couldn't help but smile, recognizing the father I had known and missed.
I knew I wasn't the only one who would miss him - Valery, too, had a connection with our parents that I had always envied. Perhaps leaving her behind with Mom would be the catalyst for me to finally forge the bond I craved with Dad.
"We're here," Dad said, nudging me gently as I stirred from my reverie, still not fully processing our surroundings.
As I stepped out of the car, my eyes landed on the grand, imposing house before us, and I was instantly wide awake.
"We don't want any bugs down there, now do we?" a man of similar age to Dad approached us, a warm smile on his face. This must be the "loaded" friend.
"John, this is Hazel. Hazel, this is my friend John," Dad introduced us, and I accepted John's outstretched hand.
"Are we staying the night?" I whispered to Dad, but John seemed to have overheard.
"Bored already?" he teased.
"Just wondering," I replied.
"Until we get on our feet," Dad answered my original question as we approached the entrance, where a beautiful woman stood waiting to greet us.
YOU ARE READING
To New Beginnings.
Teen FictionIt all made sense now, the journal, the letters and her death. I was never lost; it was there but I was just too blind to see it.... Her death wasn't a suicide, and he was never lost, he was watching us exactly like the letter Tyler found. " I won...
