Even from a very young age, Lilly knew she would probably never meet her father. It wouldn't be until she was about twelve would she know why. Her father had met her mother at a party, and wanted nothing to do with either one of them. After all, he was in college, and they were much too young to have a child.
Despite knowing she'd never had a father in her life, it had never really mattered to her. After all, she had her uncle Carson. Carson, who was halfway through medical school when his sister, Anna, dropped out of college without warning and without any reason why. It only took him one conversation to realize that she was pregnant. It took him three weeks to convince his sister not to have an abortion, and five weeks to figure out who the father was. And it was a day to live in infamy, the day Carson punched the guy in the face for calling his sister a particularly distasteful name. It was a day that would forever be brought up on holidays, when his youngest and more rambunctious sister, Peyton,was not the one to start trouble. (For once)
Carson had finished his last final of the year when Anna went into labor. And he stayed by his sister's side, and came out thirteen hours later with a broken knuckle and beautiful niece. Lilly Alexis Beckett was born on April 19, 1990 at 2:13 in the morning. At 2:13, Carson became an uncle. At about 10:00AM, after taking a nap and having his hand casted, he became a godfather.
October 17, 2005
In some ways, it doesn't really feel like Mom's gone. I just can't believe that in the past two hours, I lost my mother, my home, and my life as I knew it for good. Carson told me it'd be good for me if I tried this diary writing thing again. I used to all the time, when I was seven or eight and had just learned how to write. I would go to his apartment in Boston every Friday and write in my diary how my week had been. I'm sure Carson has probably read them, even though he swore back then that he wouldn't. I wish I could say I was closer with Carson. He was my best friend, my uncle, and my godfather all in one, and I was sure that I had a kindred spirit in him. But how close can you be to someone who hasn't been around for two years? I'm fifteen years old, and he has missed the years when I think our relationship could have been its closest - as I've grown up from being a little kid with pigtails and was terrified of jellyfish, spiders, and that really scary movie I don't even remember the name of anymore to teenager. Almost an adult, now. I wear my hair down a lot, and I'm only slightly uncomfortable around jellyfish. Spiders are ok, now that mom and I's apartment is -was - no longer completely infested with them.
See what happened there? I almost forgot again. I almost forgot that mom is dead, and that I'm in her old room in Scotland with the rest of the family. Carson and Peyton arrived within a few hours of each other. The rest got here before I did.
I don't know where Carson's been for two years, what he's been doing, or why he even bothered to come back. It's not like he's been here when Mom needed him for the past few years. But apparently in mom's will, she left everything to me and me to Carson. And he's got, as he says, "clearance" for me to go home with him after this nightmare people call funerals is over. Whatever that means, I guess that I'm stuck with him. He better have a damn good explanation as to where he's been and why he never came back for me. And his doctor skills better kick in, because I was in that car crash, too. I don't think everyone remembers that. To them, this broken wrist and the seven stitches in my forehead just appeared on their own, I guess.
Except for Carson, obviously. He knows. The first thing he did when he arrived was come sit next to me, and check over my stitches. And sign my cast, as no one else has done. Everyone else is too busy being in pain over the loss of their sister, daughter, and friend to remember that I lost a mother, too. But I can't blame them. Pain is pain and it's always going to suck that she's no longer here./span/p
And goddammit, for not taking Carson seriously about journaling again, it turns out I do feel minisculely better. Hm. Maybe I'll stick with it when we go to Antartica or wherever on god's green earth Carson is taking me.
Hey there! This is the re-posting of a very heavily revised Thicker Than Most, and this chapter is dedicated to simplemusings12, who has patiently waited since August 2014 for me to actually post this. You are much more of a dedicated fan than I am, mon amie. :)