A Mark of Metal

Chapter 1

Was I supposed to bring sandwiches or desserts?

I have a minute to myself to stop and think about the contents I was supposed to pack for the picnic, my friends and I had decided to go on.

In my thoughtful silence, I turn to look at the clock in the kitchen.

Aw shit!! Shit shit shit!!

I grab whatever was in the snack box and shove them into my bag.

Timing was not one of my strong points, in fact, I don't have many strong points. As a matter of truth, strength itself is one of my weaknesses.

Man, I really need to get a grip with staying on time. Ellie is going to be so mad when she finds out I haven't set off yet.

I look at my phone, whilst sticking my bag on my shoulder and rushing out the front door. My eyes look at the lie I created in my last message to the group chat, saying I've left...10 minutes ago.

"BYE!" I shout into the house before shutting the door behind me, unsure if someone inside was actually there to listen or not.

Ever since the death of my father; My brother became distant from my mother and I. Leaving just the best people of the show, the forever duo. Jen and Jan.

I know why he was upset at my poor sick mother who always insisted my dad died of some unnatural growing sickness that just worsened as he aged.

But in reality, the doctors had told us that he was suffering from a unique illness where his cells had difficulty regenerating. So he was dying a slow, ageing death. And I just think my mother couldn't handle that fact and created ideas to help her cope.

I knew my brother didn't like how I would "entertain" her ideas. But to me, having to see my mother beaten down by the reality of what happened. Every. Single. Time. My brother would remind her of the truth. It hurt, it hurt deeply seeing the look of pain wash over her, and reality kick in.

So then it was decided that he would move away and I shall stay and look after our delusional mother and her ever so delusional ideas.

Ignoring the pang of emptiness my brother created in my heart, I power on. Speeding walking down the street, like I'm part of Martha's Saturday speeding walking 'cruise'.

Making it swiftly to the bus stop I manage to make it in time for the next bus, quickly paying my fare and sitting down, ignoring the notifications from the group chat, probably wondering where I am.

And not so long after I had gotten on the bus, the bus then pulls into the bus station, and I meet up with my friends, apologising profusely for my lack of personal management.

After a quick talk, our next bus had pulled in. Getting on, we all watched as the bus took us to the outskirts of our village, and we watched as the rows of streets turned into fields where the flowering plains met the dense woodland forest. Our destination. Getting off, we walked to where we could see the sun strike the trees, strike them in such a way that it looked as if it was creating a world where streams of light flow.

Looking out to the flowering fields, the overwhelming sense of calmness and self-preservation arises. Like the beauty of the landscape is unconsciously draining you of all your worries and impurities. As if nothing mattered in this view of flowing grass and colourful vegetation.

Yet here we are taking the tomatoes out of our sandwiches and throwing them a good distance away from us, as if they're diseased or something.

"Good for the plants innit." I blankly state, as if I had to justify my childish palate of disliking certain veggies.