FicWad

With a scarf wrapped around my mouth and a woollen hat knitted by my grandmother adorning my vivid head of red hair, I ventured into the windy Chicagoan November afternoon. My eyes began to water instantaneously and I wiped them with the back of my coat sleeve. Pulling my coat tighter around my frame and wishing that I had worn some warmer shoes, I hurried towards the nearest bus stop, which was fortunately situated almost directly outside of my home.

Inadvertently, I was pushed backwards by the force of a passer-by. I didn't look up to seek their apologies for it didn't bother me in the slightest. The street was crowded and I was bound to bump into someone else or someone else was bound to bump into myself.

I shoved my left hand into my pocket, fumbling with my iPod. It would've been a better idea to put my iPod in my right pocket so when I came to feel the need to listen to music I would use my right hand and there would be no fumbling because I was right-handed. Finally finding the play button, the sound of music filled my ears and in my head I sang along.

The bus stop had been empty when I had arrived, making me the only person waiting for a bus, but as the minutes ticked by people began to flock to the bus stop and less than half an hour later the lack of space felt like the lack of space that one might feel in a bag of rice. You know, if one was a grain of rice.

My mild claustrophobia began to settle in and my head began to spin. I hoped the bus would arrive before the panic began to settle. Humming to numb the feeling of impending doom, I was glad to see the bus pulling into the street, manoeuvring itself around the corner.

A slow breath was released and I was surprised to find that it came from myself. I hadn't even realised that I'd been holding my breath. The bus came to a stop in front of the bus stop and the world suddenly seemed brighter. I looked forward to visiting my younger brother and father.

"Good afternoon Ernie," I pulled the scarf around my mouth down and greeted the bus driver as I stepped onto the bus. My fare jingled as I pulled it from my pocket. As always, it was exact. Ernie took my fare and gave me my ticket.

"G' afternoon Miss Cadence," he replied cheerfully and I smiled half-heartedly back at him. Everything was the same as it had always been. I liked it that way.

As I found myself a seat nearer to the back of the bus, I found it quite funny that once upon a time I had been a great fan of change. Though recently, in the past four years, I had become a great fan of words like 'regular' and 'usual' and 'predictable'. And though I myself was anything but conventional, my life had become just that.

The bus halted again and the doors open. Passengers stood up and stepped off and passengers-to-be stepped on and sat down. I looked around, taking in the faces. Some of the faces I recognised and some were utterly new. Some of the faces belonged to people I was friends with or merely acquainted with and some were complete strangers.

Two more halts later, I stood up and stepped off of the bus, pushing my scarf up so it covered my mouth again. I found myself stood on a street quite unlike the one I'd just left though it was even more familiar and welcoming. Nothing on the street had changed since the last time I'd seen it and I was glad for that.

As I walked down the street to number 89 I passed Missus Dean and smiled at her as I did. She smiled back and waved. I made a mental note to visit her later on in the afternoon and ask her how she was doing like I always did. I knew that she appreciated me asking questions about her son and how he was doing and about her sister (who was modelling in Canada) and whether or not she had enough cat food for Mister Tibbles though she always did.

I approached the front door of number 89 and noticed that the front garden looked a tad unrulier than when I had last seen it, or perhaps it was just me.

The doorbell felt cool underneath my fingers and I felt glad. Just like always. It took a few moments for my younger brother to answer the door but I remembered that he had brought his friends over this weekend.

"Hey, sis," Jack greeted me and I nodded in return, saying nothing because of the scarf that covered my mouth. "DAD!"

Within moments my dad had appeared and I pulled the scarf down and grinned almost genuinely, happy to see my dad again, "Hi Dad."

"Sure, you greet him but not me..." Jack grumbled, moving away and disappearing behind the living room door. I could hear the television.

"Cady, Cady, how've you been?" Dad asked me. I laughed slightly as I kicked off my shoes and hung up my coat.

"How do you think I've been, hanging out with Harri, Mom and Mom's latest boyfriend?" At this comment Dad laughed too and asked, "What's his name? Is he nice?"

"His name's Ben and he's nice enough but he has a strange obsession with cars," I grimaced, remembering how Ben had insisted that I spend four hours straight playing Motor Storm with him.

Dad smiled and patted my shoulder. "I advise you don't go into the living room, Jack and his friends are in there." He nodded at me and I caught the gist and headed for my room.

The room smelt like I had expected it to smell. It smelt like home. The walls were painted black and green striped although the wall on my right had a large painting of the silhouettes of the Eiffel Tower and the rest of Paris behind it. I remembered when I had come home to find that my brother had painted such a beautiful scene on my wall. I'd almost smiled properly.

I threw myself onto my bed and pulled my scarf off. The room was messy like it always was. I expected it to be messy. I liked it being messy, it was unlike my room at Mom's house which was tidy all the time because the cleaner, Rosa, cleaned it no matter how many times I asked her not to. Something told me that Mom had asked her to ignore my pleas.

Resting my head on the pillow, I knew that I was most definitely at home.



Author's Note: This story is to make up for my lack of posting over the next two weeks to come.

Charley xxx