————————-Author's Note ————————-
I write when I am drunk, after nightmares or suffering from insomnia. It is how I process the things that keep me up at night.
This story needs heavy editing, especially organization, character development, and grammar. It will get it ... eventually, I hope.
I haven't figured out if the guy will get the girl yet, or better yet if the girl will get herself. Sometimes, we need to lose people in order to truly win in life. I mean, can't the lesson of lost romance be... perhaps, that we must first learn or relearn to love ourselves.
Oh! And there are tons of triggers from emotional abuse to sexual assault. So thread lightly.
————————-Chapter One ——————————
I sat there steering at the pastel walls, trying to let the words soda in. Christ! What was I going to do? The knot in my stomach tightened as I dragged myself off the table. This should not be happening. Dressed, I turned the knob and tried to escape before the room closed in on me. Everything was a blur.
*****
The sun streams through the window as the pilot's voice courses over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, as we being our approach to Montego Bay, Jamaica. The temperature is 28 Celsius, with clear skies." I let out a slow breath and peer at the deep blue waters, as the stress of the past few months slowly slip from me. It is absolutely beautiful. How I have missed this place.
Moments later applause ruptures my solace. We touch down at Sangster's International and taxi slowly to the gate. The children are up now. The little one almost tripping over herself to get out of her seat. "Mommy, I will see grandpa now?" This is her first trip and her only concept of my home is, it is where grandpa and grandma live. "No Lilly. Not yet. This is the airport. They are at home", her brother tries to explain. It is amazing to see how much he has grown in such a short time. He gently takes her hand and steps into the hallway.
Somethings never change. Baggage claim was the typical mess. Thankfully, I learnt to pack light from my dad. Even with two little ones, I made it out with two small carryons and a slightly larger checked piece. "Mommy we will see grandpa now, right?" She asked unsure. Patience is not her strong suit but I am not the one to complain, I fail at it as well. "No Lily. Remember Mark golf you we have to get to Grandpa's house first." She pouts a little then lets out a defeated, "Ok."
We walk over to the waiting Knutsford Express and settle into middle row seats, as the driver check his watch. A stout man, about six feet tall with a well trimmed bears, he reminds me a bit of their grandfather. As the slight breeze from the open window and the motion of our travel lull me off to sleep, I think of how much they will never know of the family from which they get their name.
"Mommy! Mommy"
My eyes open, slightly annoyed at the interruption. "We are almost there!" Increasing excitement in his voice, "We are in Hart Hill!" Unlike Lilly, Mark knows Portland well. He spent most of his young life here and even at his tender age, it was irreplaceable. He spoke of the country with palpable longing. Seeing him now, he was a different child. Eyes shinning, cheeks bright, he points out places he remembers to his baby sister, whose face is pressed so close to the window, I fear it will shatter.
Seeing them like this warmed my heart. The decision to go was hopefully exactly what they needed... what we all needed. The past few months had been difficult for all involved. Watching their dad move out and hearing the fights all but tore them apart. Their father and I tried hard to keep the ending of our relationship from spilling over, into their view. It inevitably happened anyway. The effect had been weighing on my heart and I hoped the trip would distract them from realty. If nothing else give them some beautiful memories to carry them through he changes that lay ahead.
