Well this is a new story I'm writing you can check out my profile on wattpad if you want, it's also there; http://www.wattpad.com/user/claireg131
Right so here's Can't Fight The Moonlight, Chapter 1.
Can't Fight The Moonlight
I take the last box from the truck and sigh with relief. I had been back and forth for around two hours now, I was so bored I could cry. I look up at the new house, it was a beautiful house, but it just wasn't home - I know cliche, right? It was a two storied cottage house, adn was huge,but that didn't matyter to me, neither did the ten acres of woods out back that was also ours. None of it mattered.
I drop the last box in the hall, not really caring which room it belongs to, then walk up the stairs as slow as possible. I know she'll be in the same spot on her bed, just laying there in the dark. It bereaks my heart to my mother in that state, but there's nothing I could do. Nothing - Nobody but my father could help her.
I open her bedroom door,wishing, hoping, praying for something to have changed: Nothing did. Two silent tears fall as I walk over to her bed, she wasn't asleep, just staring into space. I looked into her eyes hoping to see any sort of expression in them, but her eyes were glazed over, distant, and empty. Same as always. I grab her hand softly and she blinks.
"Hey Mum," I say almost whispering, "I knowq this is about a million time worse for you than it is for me, but I need you to be strong, you were always the strong one." I sob. She squeezes my hand telling me she's trying. God, this is so fucking difficult. "I got the last of the boxes from the truck," I state. "It took me almost two hours, but I did it."
I sigh for what feels like the billionth time, "I miss him too, so much. I miss both of you." I watch the first tear since we had the news of my father's death trickle down her cheek before I wipe it away with a sad smile. Part of her is coming back. I kiss her cheek before getting up to leave. "I need to unpack some things, I start school the day after tomorrow." The day of the full moon.
After I finish unpacking my room I head dowsnstairs to start on the livingroom. As I enter the room I thank my not-always-so-lucky stars that the bigger things arrived first. I don't thinkI could muster up the strength to unpack the furniture aswell as all the boxes by myself. I sit down and open the nearest box, yet another silent tear slides down my cheek. as I see what's inside; the family photos.
I smile slightly at my favourite photo of my mum and dad, they're standing just on the ou8tskirts of the Forest of Dean. It was taken in the Autumn, my dad is stood behind my mum, their both smiling - they always were - and my father's hands are resting on my mother's very swollen pregnant stomach. I used to stare at this photo for hours when I was a child, marveling over the fact that I was in my mother's tummy. I put the photo to the side to put it in my bedroom later, I'm sure she won't miss one photo from the livingroom, thankfully we have many others.
My father's in a lot of the photos which made more silent tears fall, after all he was the reason we were here. He had family in Virginia - I guess I have family in Virginia - and he always loved it here, it's where he grew up. (Which, I guess is why I miss England so much.) So, when he died, we decided to bury him here, then we moved with him. After all you go where your mate goes.
Part of me wishes I never have to find my other half, ecspecially after what my mum went through losing hers, but it's a big part of our nature. The other part of me wishes I had already found my mate, maybe then I'd feel lesws lonely and all this grieving wpuld be a lot easier.
'You don't need your mate Valerie, you need to be strong.' I told myself sternly.
Uh, hope you enjoy it if you read it please give feedback - good or bad I don't care.