How it happened.

How we meet

 It wasn't some big production. Not one little bit.

But, When you look back on your life you realize that the smallest things in your life can have the biggest impact.

 Tucker was my Impact .

             -  Brooke ; How it ended.

** Edited **

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I look out the window as the house comes in view. 

My stuff is somewhere scattered in the back seats and Ashley’s car bumps and twists every few seconds and if she wasn’t driving I’m sure I would have slapped her already.   

My Aunt’s house is surrounded by nothing but fields and fields of yellow. I can’t help but press my face against the glass, loving the view. 

My throat is thick as I swallow. I try not to think about what I did to my father. But I still couldn’t forgive him for what he was doing to me.

 Ashley makes a sharp turn and my shoulder hits the door. 

‘‘Ow!’’ I yell and she just smirks at me as I rub my arm with my hand. If one thing I was happy about, was this. I didn’t have to deal with her anymore. 

The house is small and white. It’s one story and the closer we get, the smaller it looks.

I hear something chiming from inside the car and I roll down the window and stick my head out.  

Hanging from the trees were thousands of bottles in different colors, green, brown, yellow... They all hang down from the trees, welcoming visitors, whispering in the wind.   

‘‘It’s like that book ‘Because of Winn-Dixie’’’ Ashley comments, taking her eyes off the dirt road.

I quickly grab a hold of the steering wheel, not wanting to end my life right then and there.

 ‘‘You read?’’ I ask, as she takes over the wheel again. She smiles at me and reaches for another cigarette.  

 ‘‘Please, I’m like a freaking Shakespeare prophet.’’ I didn’t even have a reply for that.

 We finally get to the house and Ashley turns off the car. The raining has stopped, and dew fills the air.   

 The front screen door bangs open and standing with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face was my Aunt Linda.

Skinnier than a door rail, she rushes down the porch, her bangles clashing along her arms and ankles.

Her curly brown hair is up in chop sticks and she has a green flower printed skirt hanging loose to her feet.

 My breath hitches. She looked so much like my mother…

       Aunt Linda makes it to the door before I even have a chance to open it. She swings it open and smiles down at me. 

 ‘‘Well, lookie here! Is that my Brooke?’’ I smile up at her. ‘‘Hi Aunt Linda’’ She buries me in a hug and I smell jasmine and lilies.

Ashley clears her throat and my Aunt takes a step back, that big smile still there. 

‘‘And you must be one of Brooke’s friends. It’s nice to meet you.’’ My Aunt reaches over me and shakes Ashley’s hand.