Gravity can not be held responsible for people falling in love. - Albert Einstien - A different kind of Quil & Claire story.
1. A New Home
Rating 4.5/5 Word Count 880 Review this Chapter
The images of the coffin’s being lowered into the ground are still burnt into my mind. I’m afraid to close my eyes. Afraid to remember. No matter how hard I try, I can’t help but think of her, of my mother. If only I had decided to go with her on that fateful day. If I had; maybe I wouldn’t be here, in La Push living with my Aunt and Uncle.
I’d never really gotten to know my Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam, something had happened when I came to La Push when I was little, something that caused my Mother to freak out and move out of the country, away from La Push. She never really talked about the reason and with time I lost interest in the mystery that was La Push. But now that I sat here in my “new” room in La Push with Emily and Sam – I couldn’t help but wonder what the reason was. What could have possible happened that was so bad my mother who loved her sister very much had to move us out of Makah reservation and away from La Push? You would think that if it was that bad she would have changed my guardians if she was to die from my Aunt and Uncle, and yet, somehow I don’t think she every imaged she would die so suddenly. I jumped as my trail of thought was interrupted by a quite knock on my door
‘Claire.’ Emily called. I climbed off the bed and opened the door to my Aunt. She reminded me of my mother in her youth. She was a beautiful woman no doubt but the right side of her face was horribly scared, from her hairline to her chin were three thick red lines. One pulled down the corner of her right eye and another twisted the right side of her mouth downwards.
‘How is the unpacking…’ she trailed off as she noticed my suitcase still standing upright with the locks on, in the same place she had put it before leaving me to settle into my room. I Shrugged and sat down on my single bed pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them. She followed me silently; I could tell she was unsure whether or not it was ok to talk about my Mother yet. She had avoided anything that might remind me of her during the week came to stay with me after my mother’s death. Actually now I thought about it – I hadn’t really made any of it easy on her.
‘Emily,’ I asked quietly watching her as she touched the picture of my mother I had put on the bedside table ‘What happened when I was here last time?’ Emily looked at me with questioning eyes. ‘I mean what was it about here that made her move out of the country?’ I clarified. I could see it cogs in her head clink into place as she realized what I was asking about. She smiled at me apologetically
‘It’s not my place to tell you.’
‘Well then whose is it?’
She shrugged her shoulders before she pushed herself off the bed ‘How about I help you unpack?” I didn’t miss her changing the subject.
I laughed slightly, ‘That would be great.’
I enjoyed unpacking my things with Emily; she really was easy to talk to and compassionate about life. It took most of the day until finally we had everything sorted. We both collapsed onto the bed admiring the room. It was small, but I kind of like that. It was a fairly simple room, a bed and beside table, a desk and wardrobe. My favorite feature would have to be the giant window that faced the west. It was a push out window and had a sill big enough for me to sit in with my legs stretched out. I could imagine myself sitting there watching as the sunset.
‘Now before I begin dinner, I have to let you know that your Uncle still doesn’t know that you’re going to be living with us. He wouldn’t have let me leave if he knew why I was coming up to visit you. Things really didn’t end so well last time your Mother and Uncle Sam talked?’ Emily told me. I nodded in understanding, I knew she wouldn’t say anymore on the topic and even though I wanted to know the reason she let I suddenly felt like I shouldn’t push Emily any further than I already had.
I wasn’t looking forward to Sam’s reaction to Emily suddenly disappearing and returning with her Sister’s daughter. I followed her deep in thought. It was only when I herd the water running in the sink that I realized I was now in the kitchen. It was a fairly small kitchen, just like everything in this house.
Everything, except the dinner table I noted. It was long and skinny with, ten seats; I wondered why on earth my Aunt and Uncle would have such a large dinner table. With only two people in the house for so long I would have been surprise to see a table for four. I jumped slightly as the front door banged shut and a few loud voices suddenly filled the house.