DISCLAIMER!!
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This story is undergoing some editing and revamping. A few plots have been changed and some minor altercations that help with the flow of the story. Please do not be alarmed if a few things don't add up I wrote this at a...
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" Hey, have you seen my backpack?"
The clatter of scuffed worm down sneakers patterned on the battered down old wooden floor leading into the cocoa creamed walls of the kitchen.
"Last time I saw it you left it at the back door before complaining about some essay, honey."
A average height sized woman with dirty blonde hair, pulled and teased back into a sloppy bun stood, lingering over a old wooden table, no longer shinning with fresh polish but littered with the circular outline of the countless places a coffee mug had roamed and lingered to long.
That woman right there is my aunt Hayley. The woman who's cared for me since I was but an infant. Ever since I can remember she's always been there. I never knew much of my parents. Just that they couldn't care for me. I never questioned about them. I never truly cared.
The only person I care about is my aunt. She's always here. Always will be.
When I took my first steps, she was there.
When I lost my first tooth, she was there.
When I got my first bike, rode it into a curb and fell off you bet ya she was there.
She was there at my first school play. Parents evening and first ever spelling bee. (I lost, but she still took me for celebratory pizza and ice cream.)
She was there when no one else was.
She was there when I took my first steps into Nursery, primary school and then high school.
She took care of me whenever I was sick, had a bad dream or needed the monster in my closet scaring away.
But for some odd reason today she just looked different. Troubled. Troubled as her fingers traced over the countless sheets of paper, forest of jumbled up letters inked into the trees living breathing history splashed across the kitchen table like a thousand stories stacked upon the rustic old shelves of the worlds biggest library.
Stumbling round tripping over my feet was just a normal occurrence for me until I turn the corner heading into the hallway, catching my elbow in the door handle. I yell out a yell trying to bite back the string of offensive curses that would lead my mouth, all whilst tripping over my old rag of a shoe lace.
" I found it." I declare triumphantly as I hold up my backpack by one strap. Ha! You thought I wouldn't find you. You thought wrong. "Right well I'm off. Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I eating alone?"
