Fanfic-y thing
It's been FOREVER since I updated this. And I'm not even going to update with anything substantially awesome because this is a horribly fanfic-y thing, but I'm having way too much fun writing it, so in the three days I've worked on it, it's already over 5000 words.
Nothing in life ever seems to pan out exactly as we had pictured it in our mind. Planning ahead for the future, we often find ourselves daydreaming about the lovely possibilities that can spring up with each opportunity. Strangely enough, when the time comes and we take advantage of these chances and experiences, they never turn out how we want them to. So why is it that we let ourselves, our minds get carried away with these nonsensical fantasies? It only ever ends in heartbreak.
We never learn our lesson. I learned this the hard way.
My name is Valerie McGregor; I’m the youngest child (and only daughter) in my family, preceded by my brother Derek, who is six years older than me. We’ve lived in the same house ever since Derek was born, and the two of us were lucky enough to have neighbors move in right next door who had children around my age back when I was six: The Fultons. They had three children: Jackson, who is a year younger than me, Noah (two years younger than Jackson), and Lynn (three years younger than Noah).
Since they had moved in next door and we had no other neighbors near our age, Jackson, Noah, and Lynn became adopted siblings, so to speak, and vice versa. When Derek and I would wander over to the open garage door, their father would either point us toward the door or say something along the lines of, “Why are you even asking permission? Just go in.” Over time, we just started walking in the back door, no questions asked; they did the same thing to us.
The years passed quickly and we found ourselves becoming closer than ever. Derek graduated from college, which he had commuted to, and everyone started to think that life was going to change for our little family, but he remained at home while he started his new full-time job. With Derek staying at home, it meant that things could continue to be the same. We could still have our impromptu baseball games in the Fultons’ backyard. We could still pool-hop between our two pools. We could still watch playoff hockey games in our separate houses and meet in between them after a goal, screaming our heads off in celebration. We could still remain our happy family.
I followed in his footsteps two years later, graduating from high school, and going to the same college that he did. I stayed at home. Our family was still intact, still functioning happily, although we were slowly seeing each other less and less; Jackson and Noah were now both in high school, in the advanced curriculum classes. And all the while, they were both on the varsity hockey team, with practices before school every day and three nights a week, not to mention the two-or sometimes three-games per weekend.
Despite these constant drawbacks, the five of us still managed to keep in touch through the Internet, which was how we normally communicated. We used to telephone, we used to walk over and ring the doorbell, but somewhere along the lines, we forgot how to walk the twenty-five yards between our houses. Nevertheless, we would still wander into each others’ houses unexpectedly-that part hadn’t changed.
But the pivotal change of the tides had finally arrived: Jackson was going off to college.
Twelve hours away.
In the middle of nowhere.
I had come to terms with this fact, focusing more on the parts where Jackson would be back for Thanksgiving weekend and a month in December and hadn’t I gone weeks on end without seeing him because of our mismatched schedules? I could handle it, but there were moments when I felt like a coddling mother; in my mind’s eye, I was still seeing Jackson as the little five-year-old kindergartener whom I had always looked for in the hallways in elementary school. Now, in what seemed like no time flat, that same little blue-eyed boy was heading off to college. I didn’t want to see him leave.
It wouldn’t be so bad; Derek and I still had Noah and Lynn to hang out with. Noah was only a junior in high school, so we would still have him for two more years; Lynn was still a year away from going to high school, so she would still be around.
Still, in that final summer where we could all still be that quaint little family of adopted, neighboring siblings, there was something that was not quite right for Derek and me.
I had let myself daydream into a scenario of the upcoming fall semester. During the past school year, Derek and I would go weeks on end without speaking to Jackson or Noah; it would be just like that. When we had had chances to hang out, normally one of the brothers was missing; it would be just like that. One brother would be constantly absent, but we would be able to see him once every few months. At least we still had Noah, right?
Much to my dismay, I had never dreamed how wrong I truly was.
Nothing in life ever seems to pan out exactly as we had pictured it in our mind. Planning ahead for the future, we often find ourselves daydreaming about the lovely possibilities that can spring up with each opportunity. Strangely enough, when the time comes and we take advantage of these chances and experiences, they never turn out how we want them to. So why is it that we let ourselves, our minds get carried away with these nonsensical fantasies? It only ever ends in heartbreak.
We never learn our lesson. I learned this the hard way.
My name is Valerie McGregor; I’m the youngest child (and only daughter) in my family, preceded by my brother Derek, who is six years older than me. We’ve lived in the same house ever since Derek was born, and the two of us were lucky enough to have neighbors move in right next door who had children around my age back when I was six: The Fultons. They had three children: Jackson, who is a year younger than me, Noah (two years younger than Jackson), and Lynn (three years younger than Noah).
Since they had moved in next door and we had no other neighbors near our age, Jackson, Noah, and Lynn became adopted siblings, so to speak, and vice versa. When Derek and I would wander over to the open garage door, their father would either point us toward the door or say something along the lines of, “Why are you even asking permission? Just go in.” Over time, we just started walking in the back door, no questions asked; they did the same thing to us.
The years passed quickly and we found ourselves becoming closer than ever. Derek graduated from college, which he had commuted to, and everyone started to think that life was going to change for our little family, but he remained at home while he started his new full-time job. With Derek staying at home, it meant that things could continue to be the same. We could still have our impromptu baseball games in the Fultons’ backyard. We could still pool-hop between our two pools. We could still watch playoff hockey games in our separate houses and meet in between them after a goal, screaming our heads off in celebration. We could still remain our happy family.
I followed in his footsteps two years later, graduating from high school, and going to the same college that he did. I stayed at home. Our family was still intact, still functioning happily, although we were slowly seeing each other less and less; Jackson and Noah were now both in high school, in the advanced curriculum classes. And all the while, they were both on the varsity hockey team, with practices before school every day and three nights a week, not to mention the two-or sometimes three-games per weekend.
Despite these constant drawbacks, the five of us still managed to keep in touch through the Internet, which was how we normally communicated. We used to telephone, we used to walk over and ring the doorbell, but somewhere along the lines, we forgot how to walk the twenty-five yards between our houses. Nevertheless, we would still wander into each others’ houses unexpectedly-that part hadn’t changed.
But the pivotal change of the tides had finally arrived: Jackson was going off to college.
Twelve hours away.
In the middle of nowhere.
I had come to terms with this fact, focusing more on the parts where Jackson would be back for Thanksgiving weekend and a month in December and hadn’t I gone weeks on end without seeing him because of our mismatched schedules? I could handle it, but there were moments when I felt like a coddling mother; in my mind’s eye, I was still seeing Jackson as the little five-year-old kindergartener whom I had always looked for in the hallways in elementary school. Now, in what seemed like no time flat, that same little blue-eyed boy was heading off to college. I didn’t want to see him leave.
It wouldn’t be so bad; Derek and I still had Noah and Lynn to hang out with. Noah was only a junior in high school, so we would still have him for two more years; Lynn was still a year away from going to high school, so she would still be around.
Still, in that final summer where we could all still be that quaint little family of adopted, neighboring siblings, there was something that was not quite right for Derek and me.
I had let myself daydream into a scenario of the upcoming fall semester. During the past school year, Derek and I would go weeks on end without speaking to Jackson or Noah; it would be just like that. When we had had chances to hang out, normally one of the brothers was missing; it would be just like that. One brother would be constantly absent, but we would be able to see him once every few months. At least we still had Noah, right?
Much to my dismay, I had never dreamed how wrong I truly was.