Forgetting you, ninja choco [books for 6 year olds to read themselves .txt] 📗

ever. She wasn’t at the least derailed from my lack of enthusiasm towards her hug.

 

“Winter it’s been so long” she gushed as she held my hands and examined my face. “You’ve turned into a true beauty”. I laughed through the lump in my throat and pulled my hands away. I hated being touched, I hated being beautiful and I hated any contact because of…

 

My aunty cast a look at the scattered bags, 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 two pieces of luggage and began walking in the direction she came from. Her strides effortless and without any strain under the pressure of the bags. I shortly followed suit, one bag slung over my shoulder and the other rolling behind me, its wheels clinking on the flooring.

 

“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.

 

The family smiled happily as the red car pulled in front of the house. The kids bounced on the balls of their feet and the father placed a gentle hand on his children’s head. His brown eyes were smiling as he quieted them down. “Be nice to your cousins”.

 

“Here we go” my aunty said as she placed the last bag in the back and shut the back door firmly. The black jeep shining as the yellow light reflected on its surface. “Have you called your mother yet?” her voice asked as she slipped through the driver’s door and into the seat. I followed her lead and crept into the car, feeling the freshness of the leather on my palms. “Yeah” I lied easily and looked out as she reversed the car. She wouldn’t care even if I didn’t call her, her thoughts were elsewhere anywhere.

“That’s good” my aunty said as she placed the blinker on and turned into the highway. Other cars flashed past us and the buzz of the engine comforted me to some extent. I stared out the window and gave a grunt in response. I felt her eyes burning into the side of my head but I didn’t take a chance to peek. “You’re going to really like this place” she said in what I assumed was a comforting tone, “the schools nice and so are the people. Sooner or later you’re going to call this place your home”. But she was wrong. This place could never be my home.

 

I still remember leaving the house I grew up in. It seemed empty ever since the people came and took everything away. The rooms stood naked in front of me and my room felt larger without my things. I remember that I was too of a chicken to enter my brother’s room for the last time. Too see his pale grey walls and black cupboard. Too remember the painful memories.

 

The boy held the paintbrush in his hand, the grey caught on his cheeks as his 12 year old sister huffed in with another bucket of paint. His 15 year old laugh filling the space and brightening everything. “Why do you have to re-paint you room?” she asked, annoyed by the fact that her brother found her discomfort pleasing. “Because I’m a guy”.

 

Someone shook my shoulder lightly and I opened my eyes drowsily. I was met by the face of my aunty who frowned at me. “You frown when you sleep” she stated, and her eyes held an enquiry within them. I ignored her and instead took in my surroundings.

We had come 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 pajamas.

He had a bulging stomach and a grey beard surrounding his weathered face. He shot us a toothy smile and sauntered to 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.

I smiled and felt the urge to run away. To run so far away that I when I stopped I would be so far away from everything. I gave him a shy hello and an awkward hand raise.

“Well” my aunty said after a moment, “shall we go inside so you can sleep?” I nodded and was making my way to the back of the car; however my auntie’s hand latched onto my elbow. “Just grab what you need; we can bring the rest up tomorrow”. I nodded meekly in agreement, anything sounding good as my eyes threatened to close. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep on that cursed plane.

I grabbed the bag that I carried onto the plane and took it inside the massive house. The first thing on entering was the smell which wafted up my nose. It was a sweet lavender scent that was both homey and refreshing. The walls were painted a bold red and had African masks and picture frames located strategically around the place. I stopped when I came across a mirror which hung above an oak table holding ornaments. I looked horrible and disgusting, my hair defying gravity and my eyes hooded with weariness.

 

“I’ll show you to your room” my auntie’s voice rang out down from above. I tilted my head up slightly and saw her standing there, looking all majestic in her clothes. I forced a smile as my uncle held onto my bag, the handle clutched tightly in his calloused hands. “Thanks” I muttered as he clambered up, the steps creaking under his weight and the luggage clanking against the floor. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and he shot me a tight smile through his thin lips.

 

I followed behind him, watching my feet as it took one step forward and then another. I knew from the moment I touched down everything would be different, that nothing would be the same…

 

“It’s like going on an adventure” the boy said as he dipped his feet into the pond. “You get to try new things”.

A body flopped down next to him and dipped their feet in “what’s wrong with things being the same?” a small voice asked. Frowning the boy flicked his toes up and leaned back against the pier, the wood biting against his flimsy top. “ You’ll never get bored when things change…” he  said quietly.   

 

   “You can't stop the future

You can't rewind the past

The only way to learn the secret

...is to press play.”

― Jay Asher,

 

 

 

    

Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

I laid there on the springy bed, the blankets strewn around my body as the cool air filtered through the window and swirled around me. The early morning sounds and smells drifting towards my senses. The soft patter of the rain and the fresh smell of dew.

 

“Winter” a muffled voice called through the wooden door, the soft patting of knocks filling the tranquil room. I leaned up and stared as the silver handle turned slowly and the door opened slightly. Through the little crack I saw my aunty peering at me, a smile painted on her face and her brown hair framing her face lightly. “I’ve just come to say that I have to go to work and I’ve left some food in the microwave…”, her voice trailed off before she cleared her throat. “Fell free to do anything you want. Your cousins wanted to say ‘hi’ but they had school today so…”

 

I forced a smile through and felt it stretch across my face weightily. “Sure aunty, have a nice day” I said, my tone sounding harsher and uninviting than I thought. Her smile dimmed for a second however beamed back brighter than before, though I could see the hurt hiding within the depths of her swirling blue eyes. “Bye honey” she whispered as she shut the door softly, her footsteps fading with the other noises. I stayed still feeling the garage door vibrate the house and listened to the car pull out. After I was certain she had left I held my head in my hands, the weight of the world seemingly resting on my shoulders.

 

The girl glanced back nervously and saw the shadow flit back behind the garbage bin. The dark outline had been tailing her for a while and sweat was beginning to pool around her armpits. She picked up her pace, something bad was going to happen and she could feel it from the churning of her stomach and the cold chill surrounding her bones…

 

I got up, the muted white carpet soft under my toes as I padded silently to the snowy door. Everything in the room was painted in soft hues and had scratches running across the walls from scrapped off stickers.

There was a single queen sized bed pushed to the side with a single side table up holding a lamp which was set a glow. The room possessed a battered old table and a steel chair. In the corner sat a lone black bean bag, its material rough and shabby.

Aunty had promised the night before that we could spend time re-doing the room to my preferred style. She told me that she knew my artistic streak would come in handy and I couldn’t help but smile slightly. Drawing and any form of art was my way to escape, to express where words can’t.

 

I swung the door open and strolled down the glowing white hallway towards the stairs. And as I walked downstairs, my hands running lightly over the hand rail, I stopped suddenly before the last step and noticed for the first time the picture hanging across the wall. It was a tiny one and wasn’t a major standout amongst the other enlarged ones but it made my breath catch.

 

Her floral yellow dress flowed down past her knees as she held her bulging stomach, a smile plastered on her face. The man standing next to her grinned down when she complained light hardly about the effects of being pregnant. The two year old boy stared seriously at his mother, his blonde locks falling into his glowing brown eyes as he made gurgling noises and petted her hand.

 

Brushing my finger lightly over the women with the yellow dress, the grinning man and the young boy, I stared at the picture of my family before I was born. How happy they seemed. Was it because I was born that…

 

I heard a ‘meow’ and turned swiftly away from the photograph towards