I know I have a few fics that need completing and I know I'm terrible at keeping promises about updates and that I'm constantly busy with coursework but I don't care I just want to try and write something and complete it for once.. So here's the prologue..
I'll say this is fiction, because you would not believe me if I told you it were true. That this really did take place. That this is the main reason that I am sitting here now, locked away in this pristine cell, like your average lab rat, staring at the three blank, white walls that surround me. They didn't believe me, so why should you?
Because it seems unusual... mysterious?
And you like a good mystery, perhaps?
I know I do.
Or did.
You see, I'm just like you - or I was, two years ago. I had a family, two parents who loved me, a younger sister who 'loved' me, a small family pet with a name like 'buster' or 'daisy', just the same normalities that you probably have. I suppose things could have been shaken up a bit: a sordid affair ending in a swift elimination of one half of the parental unit. No, not by murder, of course. This is a normal family, remember? Or maybe an allergy to certain animals occurred within the household, and the only way to fill that small, canine-shaped void was to have one, maybe two more children? Not to say the children would be of the canine variety. Normal family, no lunar-influenced disorders going on here.
You get the general gist, everything was just... normal.
But sometimes normal could be perceived as boring, especially to a sixteen year old boy with a borderline-obsessive thrill for discovering and uncovering all things strange and unusual. Before you start to make assumptions, no, the mystery-driven youth that I am speaking of is not myself, in fact, I was quite the opposite. I enjoyed normality. It was safe. It was secure. It was something that I could count on, the knowledge that I had a warm house to come home to after school, with a dinner readily waiting for me on the table. That when went to bed at the allocated time of eleven pm, I'd get my full eight hours sleep, ready for another scheduled day at school. Things were planned out for me and life was comfortable...
...but of course, this is a story, so it needs some sort of inciting force to give it a bit of a push towards the main plot. I suppose you could say the death of my parents was the inciting force in my life: the tragic event that altered my normal and comfortable daily repetitions, forcing me to swiftly adjust to a new, alienated way of living.
As both my parents were gone, and I was not yet a legal adult, living alone with a younger sister in the house wasn't really an option, or so the social worker that rubbed my back in what I assumed was supposed to be a soothing manner but felt too practiced to be genuine, said. This meant moving to live with the closest possible family member, who just so happened to be my eighty three year old grandmother, currently residing in the Wiltshire Park Care Home. No luck there.
The next closest relative was my mother's younger sister, Auntie Jennifer. Jennifer Clarke, or Jen as she preferred, lived in Oxfordshire with her girlfriend of three years, Samantha Wildeman, and they were both more than willing to take me and Harriett under their wings. Jennifer Clarke was also unaware that her girlfriend of three years, Samantha Widleman, had been cheating on her for the past six months with her work colleague, Carl Bowen, but at this point in the story this information is not so important as it may be later on.
Another factor, following the moving of houses, was education. Oxfordshire was too far away for me to commute to my current school, which meant that both myself and Harriett would have to acclimatise to a new, most likely intimidating, environment full of other slightly-insecure teens trying to 'find' and label themselves, a concept that I was definitely dreading.
At least I had more money now.