A/N: Hey. Read it. Review it. Cool.
"Leo?"
I didn't move from my spot on the bed.
"Yeah?" I called.
"I'd like to come in."
I rolled over to face the door. "Alright."
The door creaked open and my father walked in quietly. He sat next to me on the bed, wringing his hands in his lap. Martin Howler was a tall
man, with dark hair graying at the tips, and he had a pair of rectangular glasses rested on the bridge of his straight nose, slightly magnifying his
brown eyes. The lines on his face seemed more prominent than usual.
"I have...an idea." He said, lightly.
I nodded, and sat up to face him. "What kind of idea?" I asked.
He scratched the back of his head, seeming a little nervous.
"Well, I thought…it would be a good idea…to go to England and visit your grandparents." He started.
I nodded indifferently, but I sensed this wasn't the whole idea.
"And maybe…stay there a while." He finished.
"How long?" I asked, slightly suspicious.
"Well…maybe permanently?"
I looked down at the blankets and processed the proposal. Though my face didn't show it, my stomach was churning with nerves.
"Why would we leave Seattle?" I inquired, but I already knew the answer.
"I thought it would be smart to leave, and get a fresh start. You know, leave all this distress behind."
He was referring to the recent death of my mother, Ana Cross. She had died four months ago, after a year of battling cancer. Nothing had been
the same since she died. The atmosphere of the whole city had darkened. My mother was a muggle, unlike my father and me. While we could
avoid such diseases, she couldn't be helped. Surprisingly, my father had managed to cope with his wife's death better than I had. While he took
up the role as the strong and responsible father, I had completely turned to mush. Before her death, I had been outgoing, tough, and fierce. But
in the final months of her death, my persona had slowly disappeared. Now I was blank. I rarely left the house for any reason, I stopped hanging
out with my friends, and I had become this ghost. I barely said anything to anyone. I could see my father's reason for leaving. It made perfect
sense, and though I didn't want to leave Seattle, my home, and my school, I knew if I didn't get away soon I would probably shrivel up and die.
"When do we leave?"