~Gateway~

by: Phoebe Floros

~Prologue~

I was on my laptop, researching the Tudor family, when my mother opened the door to my bedroom. I wasn't doing a project or anything; I just appreciate history, especially of the European variety. Henry VIII was a sad, lost soul, his wives even sadder and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for his eldest daughter, Mary, or as she would later be known as Bloody Mary. The Tudors were my newest fascination, but I started my history obsession with Greek Mythology and I dedicated my entire junior high school life to reading any book I could on that subject. I was reading about the death of Henry's first wife, Catherine of Aragon, when my mother so rudely interrupted me.

"Honey," she spoke softly, as if I was a babe in a bassinette, "I need to talk to you about something."

I looked up from my research, a frown on my face. Normally I prefer people to knock before they enter. That is the meaning of a closed door, right? Simultaneously sighing and closing my laptop, I sat up and set my portable computer off to the side of my bed. "Yeah?"

She looked down, tucking a strand of honey brown hair behind her ear. She stepped further into my room and took a seat on the edge of my bed. She looked so lost; her eyes trickled over my bookshelves as if she was seeing the masses of my reading material for the first time. I swung my feet off of the bed, making contact with the floor. I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. I could see she was having trouble finding the words to say whatever it is what she wanted to say, and that worried me. My mother was usually the life of the party. She could make an inanimate tree feel comfortable sharing its' secrets. Her silence was unsettling.

"Mom?"

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine for something. Shutting them, she cleared her throat and touched my hand with her fingertips. "Clara, we have to… Your father's job is… You see, he…" she was on her way to telling me we had to move because my father was promoted to an international manager position at his company, the owners of the car company Honda. He was to take the position in Japan and his family would have to move with him.

I had to sit down after she told me. I was in high school. I had made the first real friends I had ever made, people that actually liked me. I couldn't just leave them. I was in my sophomore year, starting to look at colleges and everything! I couldn't just leave everything behind. I wouldn't. So I stormed out, too consumed with emotion to rationally speak with my mother, or go seek out my father, who would probably be buried neck-deep in paperwork. I opened the hall window and climbed out onto the roof. I lay on the tiles, may arms as my pillow, and stared up at the night sky. I didn't even know I was crying until the wet, cold tears pooled in the cups of my ears. I shuddered at the feeling and wiped away the tears away with my sleeve. Cuddling up with my knees, I rocked back and forth, attempting to quiet the sobs that were wracking my body as the thought of leaving hit me hard. I mean, I didn't even know any Japanese!

(A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading! I really hope that you review! I would appreciate it so much! Sorry that it's so short, but since that's how the cookie crumbles, I've decided to give you a short preview of Chapter 1!)

I couldn't help but mope on the plane ride over. I sat in my seat, a frown stronger than gravity on my face, arms crossed and stomach empty while my mother fussed over me. I wouldn't say a word to anyone, but could you blame me? Of course not.

When we arrived, a long black car was waiting at the Honda Company's private hangar to take us to the company-paid home we would be living in for the next few years or so. We slid in and for a moment, I felt like some character in a television show. I felt that anything could happen to me; I could solve an international crime and catch the criminal or fall into a deep, unrequited love for a beautiful Japanese man. Then I returned to reality, where I was some regular girl in a regular situation. God, I hate my life.