My Best Mistake
Chapter One.
The rain hit me hard. Or, at least I thought it must have been. I was weighed down, three full, heavy bags, water-logged clothing, strong, mixed emotions each one refusing to be ignored. The weather, in all honesty, was not on my list of big concerns right now. My blue and white dress clung to me, making it difficult to walk. White pumps continuously slipped from my feet and every few yards I had to catch myself from falling when I nearly lost one.
I held tight to the world around me, suddenly trying to take an interest in the weather, about which street I was on and where exactly it was I was walking to. My destination was completely unknown. The night was black, excluding the split second flashes of the lightening ripping through the atmosphere, I tried hoping one would hit me, but couldn't think about it for too long. The deserted streets had become rivers, the rain, slamming down and filling the concrete banks, ran at speed to the bottom of the hill, where for the moment, I was headed. My drenched feet were not worth saving from the lake forming at the cross-roads, they weren't going to get any wetter if I walked straight through the middle of it.
Reaching the junction, I took a right. Finally realising where it is I was headed, where my feet had been taking me. Thankful for the rain, I knew I wouldn't have to bother drying my tears, no one would know, or at least no one would ask. I mean, you don't walk through a storm in the dead of night and turn up at someone's house you barely talk to without a reason, and reasons that put you in that kind of situation, they tend to result in tears. The little white house was familiar from my past, but recently, I hadn't been near it in years. I was unsurprised to see the light on in the front room, it was late, and I knew he liked his sleep, but I knew that he wouldn't be in bed yet, he was too lazy to get up and haul himself to the bedroom he had only a few feet away, his Mother didn't mind him staying up late either.
Seeing he was still up, I knocked on the door, I had no control over my actions, I'd given up on that a long time ago. Whatever I did from now on - for tonight at least- would be thoughtless, and only ever absolutely necessary. I waited for a moment, shifting the weight of my bags wondering what kind of a mess I looked like. Would he care? Would he even let me in? Why had I come here? Because he has a right to know that's why. I accepted the answer my brain had filled in for me, but would rather argue that it was because I had nowhere else to go. I was about to give up and turn around to go find a bus shelter to inhabit for the night, however I heard the click of the door and looked up to see a dark figure standing there, not him. It was his Mother, she seemed to take one look at me and decided to take pity on me whether she recognised me or not.
"My God! You'll catch your death of cold. You must be freezing, come in here!" I didn't have time to ask if her son was available to talk to or not, I was dragged into the small cottage, and I guess I was thankful, but mostly a little guilty. She had no idea she was taking in a run-away; I use that term lightly. "Jason! Get some towels! Please put your bags down come in, do you have any other clothes in your bags? We should get you changed into something warm and dry." She looked at me expectantly as I simply glared back unreactive still clutching my luggage.
"But... you don't know me." For a moment I was as shocked as she looked, that the words had found their way past my lips, but her face changed and she smiled.
"I recognise you from somewhere. I'm sure. But for now, let’s concentrate on reducing your chances of hypothermia." The dark haired woman held out her hand to me as I gave up trying to be defensive and let myself just go along with it. I put my bags down and she looked at me apologetically, but the look in her eyes was so completely genuine I wondered if she was even capable of evil thoughts. She raised her brows and moved her dark gaze towards the bags I'd unloaded, I only nodded, I didn’t have the strength to look through them myself.
A few moments later and a ginger haired boy ran into the room, completely confused. Then he looked at me, and if it was possible, appeared to look confused, sorry for me and in shock all at the same time. Though, I could relate to the feeling, I've been feeling the same thing for about the past two hours as I'd been wandering aimlessly through the storm.
"Jason, did you get towels?" He disappeared around the corner and returned clutching at least three towels and handed them to me. Still looking unsure about whether I was safe to approach or not, in the end I decided to stop looking at him and returned to examining the spot in the floor in front of me. "Jason, go and get one of my old nightgowns nothing seems to have survived this downpour, show her to the bathroom on your way. You can dry off and get changed in there." I was being stared at by the boy who was so confused which under different circumstances might have made me uneasy, though I suppose, under better circumstances I wouldn't even be here. "Just follow Jason, he'll show you." She smiled again as I passed her, I had the odd feeling she made a sympathetic face behind me before she started to go through my bags again.
"It's just up the stairs, on your left." I didn't look at him - I knew if I did he would ask me what was going on, and for now, I wasn't prepared to explain - I followed his directions and went straight into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I wasn't surprised to see that my face was blacked out by my mascara, and that my eyes, where it should have been, were rimmed with red and bloodshot, my cherry red lipstick -somehow- survived. There was no mistake that I had definitely been crying for the past two hours. I dried and changed silently then waited for Jason to return with a nightgown for me to wear. I heard the knock and opened the creaking door only a fraction, covering up my bare top half with just a towel to preserve my dignity, but I was greeted by his Mother, she handed me one of her nightgown's smiling she said, "I'm going to go to bed now, but Jason is downstairs, he'll take care of you. I'll see you in the morning." I nodded and shut the door.
Once fully clothed in the surprisingly well fitted gown, I sat on the tiled floor trying to plan out how the next half an hour would work. Would I go downstairs and get the silent treatment I'd been giving him? Or should I prepare myself for the Spanish Inquisition? And what should I tell him? He had to know the truth at some point, but was right now really a good time? What if he threw me back out into the street again? I don't know how much longer I'd last out in the weather I could already feel it taking its toll on me and my system. I knew if I deliberated over it too much I'd drive myself mad wracked with fear. I was ready to fall asleep on the cold floor, but I couldn't hide much longer. 'Start as you mean to go on', the phrase ran circles in my mind for the most part, it seemed like good advice.
I let myself out of the room and went back down the stairs again to find the kettle boiled and two mugs on the side, it was only a small kitchen and I managed to spot Jason straight away. He was more relaxed now, I thought that his Mother had probably had a word with him about being nice and saving the questions for tomorrow. Thankfully for me, he seemed to listen to his Mother, and he was never really one for talking. But I don't suppose some people are until you turn up at their door step, wet through, about to collapse.
"My Mother said I should wait to ask what you want to drink." He looked at me waiting.
I looked around the kitchen to see what was on offer. "A hot Cocoa, please." He nodded and I went to sit in the front room again but paused when he started talking again.
"Go sit on the bed if you want, it's warmer in my bedroom." I turned around and headed back the other way to his cardboard box bedroom just off the kitchen, the entire house was very compact, but not at all claustrophobic. His room was cluttered, every available space was filled with things that, he perhaps didn't even really need. His single bed took up most of the floor space leaving little room for movement, about the only thing you could do in his room was sit on the bed. The dark red walls gave an overall grim feel to the room, but it was hard to complain, it felt homely. That wasn't something I was prepared to throw away when it was presented so kindly to me.
Jason returned to the room holding two mugs, he appeared to be drinking a coffee, so I guessed he didn't plan on getting to sleep any time soon, he was probably feeling as stressed as I had only a few hours before. But all feeling of tension had left me, now I was left only with a numbness that I couldn't work around.
"I'm sorry." I gazed deeply into the mug of the drink he'd handed to me as he took up a seat at the head of the bed. For a moment I didn't think he would answer, he didn't really surprise me when he didn't directly mention the situation.
"Drink, it'll warm you up." I took his advice and felt it burning down my throat and tickle my insides as it went down, it was an odd sensation to be able to feel where the drink was after I'd had some, I had no idea my body temperature was so low. Silence fell between us and after a while I couldn't find the strength to even sit up any more, I balanced the empty mug on top of the dusty radio set and lay down on the bed, at first I thought he might not want me there, and ask me to move to the sofa, but it was soon changed when he pulled over a pillow and put it where my head was going to land. He abandoned his own cup on the floor and joined me on the bed after turning out the light. The bed was small, but his body heat was welcomed as I began to shiver in my body's vain attempt to warm up.
"What will your Mother say if she walks in?" I was exhausted, yet I found the strength to worry over formalities and society values.
He was looking into my eyes and I didn't dare look away, I rested my forehead onto his. I could feel his arm hovering near my hip, and took his hand and wrapped it around me placing it on my stomach, I needed the brief half second where I felt accepted. I wasn't sure how long it would last.
I held tight to the world around me, suddenly trying to take an interest in the weather, about which street I was on and where exactly it was I was walking to. My destination was completely unknown. The night was black, excluding the split second flashes of the lightening ripping through the atmosphere, I tried hoping one would hit me, but couldn't think about it for too long. The deserted streets had become rivers, the rain, slamming down and filling the concrete banks, ran at speed to the bottom of the hill, where for the moment, I was headed. My drenched feet were not worth saving from the lake forming at the cross-roads, they weren't going to get any wetter if I walked straight through the middle of it.
Reaching the junction, I took a right. Finally realising where it is I was headed, where my feet had been taking me. Thankful for the rain, I knew I wouldn't have to bother drying my tears, no one would know, or at least no one would ask. I mean, you don't walk through a storm in the dead of night and turn up at someone's house you barely talk to without a reason, and reasons that put you in that kind of situation, they tend to result in tears. The little white house was familiar from my past, but recently, I hadn't been near it in years. I was unsurprised to see the light on in the front room, it was late, and I knew he liked his sleep, but I knew that he wouldn't be in bed yet, he was too lazy to get up and haul himself to the bedroom he had only a few feet away, his Mother didn't mind him staying up late either.
Seeing he was still up, I knocked on the door, I had no control over my actions, I'd given up on that a long time ago. Whatever I did from now on - for tonight at least- would be thoughtless, and only ever absolutely necessary. I waited for a moment, shifting the weight of my bags wondering what kind of a mess I looked like. Would he care? Would he even let me in? Why had I come here? Because he has a right to know that's why. I accepted the answer my brain had filled in for me, but would rather argue that it was because I had nowhere else to go. I was about to give up and turn around to go find a bus shelter to inhabit for the night, however I heard the click of the door and looked up to see a dark figure standing there, not him. It was his Mother, she seemed to take one look at me and decided to take pity on me whether she recognised me or not.
"My God! You'll catch your death of cold. You must be freezing, come in here!" I didn't have time to ask if her son was available to talk to or not, I was dragged into the small cottage, and I guess I was thankful, but mostly a little guilty. She had no idea she was taking in a run-away; I use that term lightly. "Jason! Get some towels! Please put your bags down come in, do you have any other clothes in your bags? We should get you changed into something warm and dry." She looked at me expectantly as I simply glared back unreactive still clutching my luggage.
"But... you don't know me." For a moment I was as shocked as she looked, that the words had found their way past my lips, but her face changed and she smiled.
"I recognise you from somewhere. I'm sure. But for now, let’s concentrate on reducing your chances of hypothermia." The dark haired woman held out her hand to me as I gave up trying to be defensive and let myself just go along with it. I put my bags down and she looked at me apologetically, but the look in her eyes was so completely genuine I wondered if she was even capable of evil thoughts. She raised her brows and moved her dark gaze towards the bags I'd unloaded, I only nodded, I didn’t have the strength to look through them myself.
A few moments later and a ginger haired boy ran into the room, completely confused. Then he looked at me, and if it was possible, appeared to look confused, sorry for me and in shock all at the same time. Though, I could relate to the feeling, I've been feeling the same thing for about the past two hours as I'd been wandering aimlessly through the storm.
"Jason, did you get towels?" He disappeared around the corner and returned clutching at least three towels and handed them to me. Still looking unsure about whether I was safe to approach or not, in the end I decided to stop looking at him and returned to examining the spot in the floor in front of me. "Jason, go and get one of my old nightgowns nothing seems to have survived this downpour, show her to the bathroom on your way. You can dry off and get changed in there." I was being stared at by the boy who was so confused which under different circumstances might have made me uneasy, though I suppose, under better circumstances I wouldn't even be here. "Just follow Jason, he'll show you." She smiled again as I passed her, I had the odd feeling she made a sympathetic face behind me before she started to go through my bags again.
"It's just up the stairs, on your left." I didn't look at him - I knew if I did he would ask me what was going on, and for now, I wasn't prepared to explain - I followed his directions and went straight into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I wasn't surprised to see that my face was blacked out by my mascara, and that my eyes, where it should have been, were rimmed with red and bloodshot, my cherry red lipstick -somehow- survived. There was no mistake that I had definitely been crying for the past two hours. I dried and changed silently then waited for Jason to return with a nightgown for me to wear. I heard the knock and opened the creaking door only a fraction, covering up my bare top half with just a towel to preserve my dignity, but I was greeted by his Mother, she handed me one of her nightgown's smiling she said, "I'm going to go to bed now, but Jason is downstairs, he'll take care of you. I'll see you in the morning." I nodded and shut the door.
Once fully clothed in the surprisingly well fitted gown, I sat on the tiled floor trying to plan out how the next half an hour would work. Would I go downstairs and get the silent treatment I'd been giving him? Or should I prepare myself for the Spanish Inquisition? And what should I tell him? He had to know the truth at some point, but was right now really a good time? What if he threw me back out into the street again? I don't know how much longer I'd last out in the weather I could already feel it taking its toll on me and my system. I knew if I deliberated over it too much I'd drive myself mad wracked with fear. I was ready to fall asleep on the cold floor, but I couldn't hide much longer. 'Start as you mean to go on', the phrase ran circles in my mind for the most part, it seemed like good advice.
I let myself out of the room and went back down the stairs again to find the kettle boiled and two mugs on the side, it was only a small kitchen and I managed to spot Jason straight away. He was more relaxed now, I thought that his Mother had probably had a word with him about being nice and saving the questions for tomorrow. Thankfully for me, he seemed to listen to his Mother, and he was never really one for talking. But I don't suppose some people are until you turn up at their door step, wet through, about to collapse.
"My Mother said I should wait to ask what you want to drink." He looked at me waiting.
I looked around the kitchen to see what was on offer. "A hot Cocoa, please." He nodded and I went to sit in the front room again but paused when he started talking again.
"Go sit on the bed if you want, it's warmer in my bedroom." I turned around and headed back the other way to his cardboard box bedroom just off the kitchen, the entire house was very compact, but not at all claustrophobic. His room was cluttered, every available space was filled with things that, he perhaps didn't even really need. His single bed took up most of the floor space leaving little room for movement, about the only thing you could do in his room was sit on the bed. The dark red walls gave an overall grim feel to the room, but it was hard to complain, it felt homely. That wasn't something I was prepared to throw away when it was presented so kindly to me.
Jason returned to the room holding two mugs, he appeared to be drinking a coffee, so I guessed he didn't plan on getting to sleep any time soon, he was probably feeling as stressed as I had only a few hours before. But all feeling of tension had left me, now I was left only with a numbness that I couldn't work around.
"I'm sorry." I gazed deeply into the mug of the drink he'd handed to me as he took up a seat at the head of the bed. For a moment I didn't think he would answer, he didn't really surprise me when he didn't directly mention the situation.
"Drink, it'll warm you up." I took his advice and felt it burning down my throat and tickle my insides as it went down, it was an odd sensation to be able to feel where the drink was after I'd had some, I had no idea my body temperature was so low. Silence fell between us and after a while I couldn't find the strength to even sit up any more, I balanced the empty mug on top of the dusty radio set and lay down on the bed, at first I thought he might not want me there, and ask me to move to the sofa, but it was soon changed when he pulled over a pillow and put it where my head was going to land. He abandoned his own cup on the floor and joined me on the bed after turning out the light. The bed was small, but his body heat was welcomed as I began to shiver in my body's vain attempt to warm up.
"What will your Mother say if she walks in?" I was exhausted, yet I found the strength to worry over formalities and society values.
He was looking into my eyes and I didn't dare look away, I rested my forehead onto his. I could feel his arm hovering near my hip, and took his hand and wrapped it around me placing it on my stomach, I needed the brief half second where I felt accepted. I wasn't sure how long it would last.