Dear Andrew

 

Dear Andrew,

What can I say? For days I’ve pondered over this question, my pen poised over the paper as I waited for the words to flow. It felt like so long ago since I’ve last seen you, heard you coming up those stairs and opening my door. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for what you’ve done but someone special taught me to move on. Sometimes Andrew I would sit on my bed and wish to see you, to confront you like I should have because maybe then it would have different…But other times I’m grateful because you made me come to this place. You gave me another chance and I’m grateful…

From

Your daughter you beat,

Winter.

 

Hey please tell me what you think! :)

Prologue

 

I think I had always known that you would never change. It was as if you were stuck in mud and couldn’t move on and that’s why you struck me on that December day. I still remember the way you advanced on me dad, the way your eyes held so much anger and hate that it was almost tangible. I remember the taste of blood and the way you had this sick smile on your face as your scent of alcohol drifted into my nose. Maybe it was my fault that you were like that; maybe I had changed you….

But that was so long ago right? Now it was June and winter was reaching its peak, the cold wind bruising and unforgivable. It hadn’t even been years really, but each day you seemed to be getting worse, taking more heavier dealings of drugs and drinking as if there was no tomorrow. You head would lull to the side from the couch as I cleaned your mess but that was only on the good days. Other days, the normal ones, you would be waiting for me like a predator hungry to feast as I crept through the halls.

I had a child line brochure to tell you the truth, waiting to be called under my bed every time I came to my room for sanctuary. It burned me as I slept and I think I would always wonder why I never called for help, took that much needed hand. Maybe it was because you were my dad or maybe because I was scared of what everyone would think. But whatever it was I never got to calling, because soon after you had taken an overdose.

You took too much didn’t you? When I was at school and had come back I found you. I don’t think I was sad. Instead I felt this sense of relief, even if you were my dad. I don’t really remember what happened next. One moment I was there and the next this lady was standing before me in her pressed skirt and cotton blouse. I would latter come to find out her name was Holly. She was nice, her shoulder blonde hair and straight smile welcoming as she talked to me about what was about to happen. The changeover she called it, I was too move in with my aunty in Atlanta, the one I hadn’t seen in a long time. Truth was I was scared.

I told Holly I was scared and she just smiled at me, held my hands and told me its ‘okay’ and for once I believed it. Even if no one knew what happened behind that big brown door or the fact that I was always crying for help in my own way, I believed I was going to be ‘okay’.

Here we come Atlanta.

Chapter 1:

Chapter 1:

The wind nipped at my shoulders as I wheeled my bag down the pathway, my eyes searching for the blue Honda with the taped up window. And when I didn’t see it I began to worry that my aunty had abandoned me in this strange and lonesome terminal, where the people were scarce.

I bit down on the tender flesh of my lip and leaned back against a pole as I took out my phone, my eyes scanning the names before landing on the one I had been desperately searching for. I pressed down on it, my leg bouncing up and down as I listened to it ring several times before it went straight to voicemail. Cursing under my breath I felt this longing need to smash the piece of device on the concrete floor before I supressed it. Already here and everything wasn’t looking so great, in fact the flight here had been dreadful and I cringed as I thought of the baby crying in my ear as the mother fluttered about applying her makeup.

“Winter!” a voice hollered and I dared a peek behind me to see a large lady barrelling in my direction. Her brown hair swished around her shoulders and her blue eyes glowed with barely contained excitement. “Winter” she breathed more softly and she grabbed me in a tight embrace. I felt this weird sensation come across me. It felt odd being hugged like this again, this soft yet firm embrace was strangely comforting.

“Aunty?” I said with uncertainty and her loud laugh echoed through the silent night as she pushed back, her smile so wide that I was afraid it would split her face in half. “Who else?” she asked as she pushed strands of my hair back. “Now let’s get you home dear”. And at that moment I knew that she didn’t want to touch the subject of my father’s death or the fact that technically I was an orphan. I could see it by the way her eyes darted around the place or the way she seemed to be sweating under the fabric of her clothes. It made me feel horrible then and left me wondering if it would always be like this.

“Yeah” I muttered because the feeling of happiness had instantly been abolished leaving me empty.

 My aunty cast a look at the scattered bag, her eyebrows raised in question. “Winter is this all you’ve packed?” she asked in surprise. Shrugging my shoulders I put my hands in my jacket and curled my toes in the boots which encased my sock clad feet. “Well then” she said after the silence which befell us, “shall we get going?”

Before I had time to reply she had already picked up the luggage and began walking in the direction she came from. Her strides effortless and without any strain under the pressure of the bag. I shortly followed suit.

“Your cousins can’t wait to greet you” she said actively as I followed a step behind. “They are just so excited and happy you’ll be living with us….” She continued with her lively one sided dialect and I tuned out.

We soon came to stand before the blue Honda which I had failed to see. “Do you remember Mike?” she asked and that was what piped my interest as she loaded my bag in.

Mike.

The boy I had met on my first and last summer break here and the one who stole my first kiss. My cousin’s best friend and the boy who had the hauntingly beautiful grey eyes that could woo anyone that sometimes I even caught myself having fleeting thoughts about it.

My Mike?

“M-Mike?” I stuttered out and aunty just smiled obliviously. I quickly composed myself to the best of my ability. “Hmm, he lives down the road and everything. Oh but…” and I zoned out as my hand froze on the handle to the door.

Mike lived down the road. Mike who stole my kiss and the Mike who broke my twelve year old heart. Suddenly the prospect of living in a new place didn’t seem any good and I felt that fear creeping in. Suddenly everything had just gotten ten times more harder…

OK tell me if i should contuine... :)

 

 

Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Mike was the boy I first met when I came to visit. I had just gotten out of the car, the sweltering sun blistering and hot, before I was pounded in the face by a ball the size of my fist. To say it didn’t hurt would be a complete lie, because in reality it felt as if my face had been punched and my nose and been twisted so it was inside my skull. And that’s when I first saw him.

He was running towards me, his arms pumping and his long black hair blowing into his eyes as he huffed to a stop in front of me. At first I didn’t think much of him, he was just an average looking boy until of course he looked up and I caught sight of the most beautiful grey eyes I’ve ever seen. They were like the stormy clouds of the Pacific and absolutely captivating that my breath was stolen. Until of course I was snapped out of it by the calling of my aunty. If only I would have known that this chance encounter would set off a series of events that would lead too much unneeded heart break.

I mean maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed in the car longer so the ball would have missed me, or maybe if I had just refused that first date. Then maybe I would have saved the greater amount of pain my twelve year old self felt when I saw pictures of Mike smooching some random girl. It really seems stupid now when I thought of it, after all the pain my father’s put me through, but it was the fact that I wanted a complete clean slate to start over and Mike was still here to taint my fresh start. Because tell me who ever wanted to be living down the street from their ex-boyfriend?

So as I sat there in the car, reeling with this thought of seeing Mike I felt this urge to just high tail it back home and demand I be sent somewhere else. I was a chicken in many ways at that moment, especially as I never truly confronted Mike about the pictures and just left. I had up and left, leaving behind the city and never looking back of course till now.

“You ok honey? You look a little sick” my aunty drawled as she cruised down the highway, her eyes glancing at me nervously in only what I could think of as worry. I think she thought I was having a nervous breakdown, which I was, except from a completely different idea from what she thought. I was having it more for the reason of seeing Mike while she thought it was from the death of my dad. Yes, somewhere deep down I was waiting to cry but that was somewhere I was unwilling to look into. I refused to acknowledge it, that weaker side of me.

Some may call it running but I called it surviving. Because that’s all I’ve ever been able to do.

Survive.

chapter 3:

Chapter 3:

The car rumbled to a halt in front of a white two story house with a basketball hoop attached to the side. The porch stretched around the perimeter and an American flag flew from the roof. A shingle chimed as I slowly got down, the rose bushes brushing my legs as I realized how dangerously close we were to the edge. A light flicked on inside and the wooden door opened to reveal a man dressed in loosely fitting pyjamas.

He had a bulging stomach and a grey beard surrounding his weathered face. He shot us a toothy smile and sauntered towards us. “Welcome dear” he said in a gruff voice as he came to stand next to his wife who had moved away from me. I caught a whiff of wood and the scent of sweat as he wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close, his black eyes staring at me.

Uncle Harry.

“Well come on in then” my aunty said as she broke the silence of the night, her voice ringing loud and clear. I smiled as I watched her take my bag as she heaved herself up the steps and inside followed shortly by my uncle. However before I left I cast a quick look down the street with the flickering lamp lights and I swore I caught sight of someone holding what appeared to be a basketball.

I don’t know if deep down I was hoping it was Mike, but at that moment I got that dreadful feeling of an encounter waiting to happen. An encounter which I was hoping to avoid and this may sound heartless but on the way here I was praying that my cousin and him had split being best friends.  It was wishful thinking of course. In fact it was near impossible because I shared memories of them always laughing and having each other’s backs.

So as my eyes focused on the figure which was drawing closer and closer to me, I tried to will my legs to move except they seemed to have been concreted into the pavement. My hands sweated as my mind raced with all the possible sceneries which were bound to lead into a confrontation, one I didn’t need. Then the figure stopped, right under the light that my breath caught.

I had been betting that maybe it wasn’t him, that maybe it was a random stranger, but even though he stopped a distance away I could still see and feel his eyes. The way his eyes seemed to be burning holes onto my forehead and sending familiar tingles racing up and down my spine. It sounded cliché but nothing could ever describe the feeling then and there and I wasn’t sure if it could be determined as a good feeling or bad one. In fact I wasn’t even sure if Mike was even staring or glaring at me, but the intensity of his look sent me reeling for cover.

I scampered away quickly and up the steps, all hope that it was another Mike disappearing no matter how farfetched the hope was. I entered the warm bathing of the hallway as I slammed the door shut, the lock clicking into place as my breathing turned from jagged to normal. I could imagine my auntie’s bewildered face as my eyes shut closed, trying to eliminate the way Mike looked even if it was a short glimpse.

If I could describe him it would be lean and tall but basically your everyday average teenage boy. He wasn’t all that eye catching but that was what I liked about him, second to his eyes. I could trust him or so I thought.

“What’s wrong dear?” my aunty asked concerned and my eyes flew open where I poised a fake smile on my face. I had nearly forgotten she was standing before me and breathing out so my breath rushed out I shrugged my shoulders.

“Nothing, just thought I saw something” and her smile stretched into one of understanding as if she always saw something strange. But in reality I think she was thinking that I was a total nut case and she didn’t want to break me in terms of my father’s death.

If she really didn’t want to break me, then she better send me back before it was too late and I had to talk to Mike.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 06.10.2013

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