Status: Updating whenever...

Under the Midnight Sun

Prologue

I groan as my alarm sounds off and I whack my hand on top of it, silencing the dreadful noise. My eyes flicker open as I remember what day it is. Today is the day that I finally move from Grand Rapids, Michigan to London, England. I have always wanted to visit there but I never thought in a million years that I would actually be living there. I begin to slowly brace myself for the unexpected journey I am about to partake in.

It all started when I auditioned for the lead spot in a contemporary dance troop in London, England. It takes American music, adds the most incredible dance and brings it to the British people. I have been a great fan of it ever since it began and I was ecstatic to join.

I have been dancing since I was three years old. It has been a passion of mine for as long as I can remember. I could never even think to live without it. It has been my savior through my toughest times; especially when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was fourteen. The breathtaking feeling of flying through the air with one lithe hop is what keeps me moving. Being up on stage takes away all my fears and pain and worries.

I then jump out of bed, ready to start my day. I skip to my bathroom and turn on the water—as hot as it can possibly go—and I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is all out of sorts and make-up from last night has smeared underneath my eyes. I squint my eyes shut and give my head a tiny and quick shake. I then step into the shower. I shiver as the scalding water pours over my naked body.

When I get out the shower and dry off, I change into an outfit that is seemingly fitting for a plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean. After I run gel through my hair and put the finishing touches on my make-up, I hear a knock at the door. I briskly walk to the across my apartment and look through the peep hole. I smile and open the door. “Mum!” I exclaim. Now I know what you are thinking: why does she call her “mum” when she’s American? I have been calling my mom “mum” since I was eight-years-old. I’ve always been fascinated with British culture.

“Hey, Virginia!” My mom says joyfully as she wraps her arms around me for a hug. As she pulls away, she looks up at my bright face. She cups my cheek. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re moving… to England!” She lets out a small, almost sad, laugh.

My mother is literally the best! I know it’s cliché to say that but it is true! She is a warrior woman that fights and defends my siblings and me with the strength and grace of a Greek goddess. She has always been there for me, especially at my darkest moments. Even when I have treated her terribly with my bipolar, she has always stayed by my side.

“I know it’s so exciting! Maybe I’ll meet someone!” My love life has been pretty much nonexistent. I then notice the tears in my mother’s eyes. “Oh, don’t cry, Mum! I can always visit and I’ll Skype you as much as I possibly can!” I bring her in for another hug.

“Oh!” She sobs into my chest. “I’m just going to miss you so much! You’re my rock, Virginia.”

“Come now, Mum. Don’t be like that. You’ve got to be strong or you’re going to make me feel incredibly guilty for leaving you here in tears!” I bite my lip.

“Ohh, you’re right!” Mum pulls away once again and wipes away her tears with the palm of her hand. “Now let’s get your thinks packed up and put in the trucks!”

“You better make sure my payments are getting sent through or I’ll end up on Storage Wars!” I joke.

“Oh, you know I will!” She winks at me, letting out a laugh—a happy one this time.

After two hours of packing away my furniture in a U-Haul truck to take to my storage unit and putting my suitcases in my mother’s trunk, we are ready to head out. We drop my belongings at the storage unit place. Then we make our way to the airport. We had a party last night to say good-bye to everyone so I would not be emotional the day of my voyage.

My mother helps me with my bags and we stand outside Gerald R. Ford International Airport. I turn to look at her. I stare deep into her hazel eyes, struck with a sudden urge to stay. Am I really doing this? Can I really do this? How will I ever be able to make it on my own? Then I realize something: with everything I have been through, I can do this. Nothing can stop me now.

My mother smiles sadly at me, reading my mind. “You can do this,” she says, assuring. “I know you can. If you can get through all the shit you’ve been through, you can live on your own in London.” She places her hand atop of mine against my bag strap on my shoulder. And if you don’t like it, I’m always here to help you out. But I know you will thoroughly enjoy it. And like you said, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

“You’re right.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I can do this.” I then give her a quick hug and head into the airport to leave for my new home.
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Welcome to my brand new BBC Sherlock fan fiction! I hope you enjoyed this quick introduction! I always like to do prologues for my stories. I hope you stay tuned because I have a ton planned for this story! And check out my other fan fiction! I have Avengers, Avengers smuts, Supernatural and Hollywood Undead!

Virginia's Outfit