The weather had quickly changed for the worse in little old Townsville, Maine. The snow came down in sheets. It wasn't the nice snowball snow, but more of a slushy mess. It wasn't pretty, not like she liked it. Patricia stared out her bedroom window with a slight grimace on her face. She loved Maine snow falls, not just his one. She noticed a car leave from the house across the street. A driver with the elder Mr. and Mrs. Dalton inside. She cringed at the sight of them. Ever since her mother died, her father was trying to convince her to marry Franklin Dalton. She received letter when she was away at school, he rang to tell her if Franklin was returning for the holidays, and to let her know that they were having an formal dinner. She enjoyed the idea of social callings, and she would never grow too unaccustomed to a proper dinner party. She despised the boy or she guessed man, now. He was a college lad, after all. She now lived at home, and did not go to her fancy boarding school she once attended. It took her father a year before she ended up taking over the house. His business took him away from his five children quite often. He was, currently, on a business trip to Wisconsin. Would be gone for three weeks. Patricia woke every morning to play mother. How grand.
Her eyes glazed over the snow in her front yard. It was the small boy that was still in his PJ's that sent her into mother mode. She threw her robe and stomped down the stairs, threw the front door open. "Grayson Harris, get out of that cold! Grayson, I know you can hear me" She yelled as she ran out into the cold. Without her noticing, the other three children snuck out of the house behind her. She chased the little boy of four though the snowed front yard, as he giggled. The she was hit with a snowball, and more giggles emptied into the air behind her. "James! Elenore! Emily! What do you think you are doing!" she shrieked, with a small smirk forming. She stepped forward toward the culprits. Snow already formed into a ball in her hand. "This means war!" she battled called. Laughter filled the neighborhood.
…
Charles woke up to his first morning home to the giggles of small children. He was disoriented, and now annoyed as he was started and moved to fast. Pain shot though him, and he groaned. Then he remembered what day it was and groaned into his pillow gain. He was going to miss the first day back to class. He wasn't there to support his friends. He stood up in his room, and stretched lightly, readjusted his pajamas and dared to gaze out the window at all the outdoor ruckus. A lady. He smirked, getting expelled may become more interesting after all.
The first day home, other than finding his neighbor and children running around before sunrise, was uneventful. His parents, basically punished him severely, and then left the state. How nurturing, he thought as he read though their note on the kitchen counter. At least them leaving was a perk of his situation, he didn't have to pretend to be an obedient son. There was a reason he was great at English, he was very well read. He started a fire in the backrooms fire place, grabbed a copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and a blanket. He sat in the only chair in the room that had a back to it and an ottoman. After making himself comfortable he read the morning away, ate, read the afternoon away, ate. He was purposely trying to immerse himself into another world. He was being a literary cliché by trying to escape his reality.
