Chapter One

I tried to leave Enfield without making a scene. Obviously that was impossible with my mum and dad still alive. They sobbed as they hugged me again and again. I rolled my eyes countless times as they hugged me.

 "Son, why are you leaving? Enfield's not that bad? I mean you have friends...right?" my mum asked while she still had her arms wrapped possessively around me. I laughed.

 "I think you already know that answer to that mum." I said, rolling my eyes. Sure, I'd had acquaintances, but I wouldn't have counted any of them as 'friends'. It was ridiculous; twenty years old, and not a friend in my life! It was not normal, and I was determined for a fresh start to make friends, and a name for myself in a new city; a new country.

 I really didn't like scenes being made over me, so I left as soon as possible, creating an excuse about not wanting to miss my plane. My mother rolled her watering eyes.

 "Always the careful one." She said. She winked, causing another tear to streak down her ivory cheek. She brought a crumpled tissue to her face and wiped it away. She smiled, trying to be brave. I rubbed her cheek with my thumb.

 "I'll visit, mum."

 "Hell you will! We're coming over there to visit you!" she said, trying to sound like she was making a joke, but even I could hear the lump in her throat. I felt sorry for her, but she still had dad, who was in the corner, trying not to cry. I walked over to him and held out my hand for a handshake. He slapped it out of the way, and pulled me into a tight hug; as if it was the last hug he'd ever give me. I hugged him back. I was going to miss my family, but that was the only thing that I was going to miss about Enfield.

 "Bye, dad." I said.

 "See ya, son." He was trying to be blasé but his voice broke on the last word. Suddenly he squinted his eyes and turned away. I patted him on the back and left.

 

 I didn't think much at all until I'd already boarded the plane. I looked out at the dirty grey gravel that used to be home. A home I was leaving for a new life; a fresh, clear canvas, ready for me to paint in a new, perfect life. Obviously, I was a rubbish artist...

 I flicked a strand of shimmering blond hair out of my eyes and sat back in my chair. I had never been afraid of flying, but now, I was scared. I was on my own, and there was no one to help me any more. But I was going to do this. I promised myself.

The End

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