Seasons Change But People Don't

it was a bitterly cold December night when the young girl began the seemingly never-ending walk up the gravel pathway - her dark copper hair dancing in the breeze. She'd tried to run, really she had. Even taking a year out of school to travel to distant, far off lands. Anything, just to get away. It'd been fun for a while - there were times when she'd thought "hey, this isn't so bad" or "maybe it's going to be okay after all" but none of it had been enough because here she was, once again, stood on her parents' old front porch.

All that running and for what?

You couldn't run from the inevitable - she'd learned that the hard way - and in all honesty, she was tired of running. It was time to face her past, come what may. Despite the circumstances that resulted in her leaving, she was so glad to be home. She'd missed England much more than she'd realised. Even the weather. After what felt like hours of standing alone in the snow, staring down her childhood home as though it would disappear should she turn away, even for a moment she hesitantly reached out and lightly knocked on the old, wooden door three times.

Several moments passed during which she began to feel increasingly nervous, only just managed to resist the urge to start pacing the old front porch - a habit she'd picked up from her father. Would they even answer the door? It was 2 in the morning, after all. As soon as she realised that she had to return home she'd packed what little belongings she cared about into a small bag and jumped onto the next plane out of California. Of course, during this moment of madness, she'd forgot to factor in the time difference. Smart move.

At last, muffled discussion was heard from the opposite side of the door followed by, what sounded like, someone fumbling with a key. Then, without warning, the wooden door creaked open revealing a woman's face.

The older woman was dressed in night clothes and seemed irritated at being dragged out of bed at such an hour but her facial expression instantly changed when she realised who was standing in the dim light of her front porch. A huge smile made it's way onto her face as she reached out and enveloped her daughter into a hug.

"Hayley, you're home! I can't believe it." she cried, with tears filling her eyes.

"Hey mum" the young girl smiled, weakly.

"Oh my, James!" her mother called, as she finally released her daughter from her embrace. An older man's voice, James, was then heard to be approaching down the hallway.

"Who was it Vi? Carol singers, again? Don't they know what time it i-" the man stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes filling with tears just as his wife's had as he looked down and saw his beautiful daughter, for the first time in over two years.

"Hayley?" She sniffled a little and his voice cracked as he spoke, before he opened his arms and held her in a tight embrace.

"I'll put the kettle on, we have a lot of catching up to do" Violet smiled through her tears, closing the front door and walking into the kitchen.

Hayley sat through the night talking to her parents about anything she wanted. They didn't broach the subject of why she left England. No, that night was about the three of them and each thought to themselves that it felt like no time had passed at all. For a while, just knowing that they were together again caused everything bad that had ever happened to Hayley in her life to just melt away.

Be fair though, when was anything ever that simple.