No Place Like Home Part 1: The Road Ahead
Author: Lexa
Email: c_rossingjordan@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Abby has to face going 'home' for Thanksgiving.
Spoilers: Don't think there are any.
Comments: Please review!!!!!!! I've been working on this for a while, but this place hasn't been working for a while. Anyways, you may have read some parts other places, but parts 2 and 3 have been changed since anyone has seen them. Part 4 is new, and I've written part 5, it just needs to be edited. I'll keep writing if you guys like it.
The song in this part is "Sunny Came Home".
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. If they did, why would I be writing silly little fanfics?
The green sign with white letters tells me I've got 30 miles to go, and chills run up my spine. Quickly I jam a cigarette in my mouth and smack the radio. The speakers start to blare some ridiculous music so I change the station. Anything to keep me from thinking about what the road ahead of me holds.
Luka kept referring to this trip as "going home", but 'home' is not the proper word for this. The word 'home' would suggest that it's somewhere you belong, or at least a place where you belonged at some point. Maybe it's the closest to having a 'home' that I'll ever have; a place that I haven't set foot in in 12 years, a place that is still the setting for many of my nightmares, a place that I fear going back to, even resent. A place that reminds me of the life I've been trying ever so desperately to forget for the past 12 years, a place that still holds the me I keep pretending I no longer am. But if I really am no longer that person, then why am I coming back?
The closer I get, the more and more familiar it looks, and the more and more haunting it feels. As I drive by a tall red apartment building, I remember looking at it once when we were coming back from thanksgiving at my uncle's, and thinking how nice it would be to live there by myself, be some rich jetsetter who could have anything she wanted; how romantic. But of course now the paint's faded, there's no longer a door man standing in front, and there's clothes hanging out to dry on the balconies.
I just turn up the radio, hoping it will drone out my thoughts. This isn't the time to get emotional.
My car gets even slower as I pull into the street. It looks basically the same as it does in my nightmares. There's the tacky yellow house with the blue garage.. The red brick house where the Abbots used to live.. The house that always had a lot of cats..
I finally I arrive at the house I've been driving hours to get to. At first I just stop my car and stare at it. My hands are still on the wheel. My foot is still on the gas pedal. All I have to do is turn the key and keep driving again. But instead I get out and walk slowly to the front door.
I knock then stuff my hands into my pockets, waiting impatiently. Maybe he's not here. Maybe he left. Maybe I can just turn around and go back to Chicago again.
Never mind. My planned has been ruined.
"Abby!?" He said as he opened the door.
"Hi Dad."
Author: Lexa
Email: c_rossingjordan@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Abby has to face going 'home' for Thanksgiving.
Spoilers: Don't think there are any.
Comments: Please review!!!!!!! I've been working on this for a while, but this place hasn't been working for a while. Anyways, you may have read some parts other places, but parts 2 and 3 have been changed since anyone has seen them. Part 4 is new, and I've written part 5, it just needs to be edited. I'll keep writing if you guys like it.
The song in this part is "Sunny Came Home".
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. If they did, why would I be writing silly little fanfics?
The green sign with white letters tells me I've got 30 miles to go, and chills run up my spine. Quickly I jam a cigarette in my mouth and smack the radio. The speakers start to blare some ridiculous music so I change the station. Anything to keep me from thinking about what the road ahead of me holds.
Luka kept referring to this trip as "going home", but 'home' is not the proper word for this. The word 'home' would suggest that it's somewhere you belong, or at least a place where you belonged at some point. Maybe it's the closest to having a 'home' that I'll ever have; a place that I haven't set foot in in 12 years, a place that is still the setting for many of my nightmares, a place that I fear going back to, even resent. A place that reminds me of the life I've been trying ever so desperately to forget for the past 12 years, a place that still holds the me I keep pretending I no longer am. But if I really am no longer that person, then why am I coming back?
The closer I get, the more and more familiar it looks, and the more and more haunting it feels. As I drive by a tall red apartment building, I remember looking at it once when we were coming back from thanksgiving at my uncle's, and thinking how nice it would be to live there by myself, be some rich jetsetter who could have anything she wanted; how romantic. But of course now the paint's faded, there's no longer a door man standing in front, and there's clothes hanging out to dry on the balconies.
I just turn up the radio, hoping it will drone out my thoughts. This isn't the time to get emotional.
My car gets even slower as I pull into the street. It looks basically the same as it does in my nightmares. There's the tacky yellow house with the blue garage.. The red brick house where the Abbots used to live.. The house that always had a lot of cats..
I finally I arrive at the house I've been driving hours to get to. At first I just stop my car and stare at it. My hands are still on the wheel. My foot is still on the gas pedal. All I have to do is turn the key and keep driving again. But instead I get out and walk slowly to the front door.
I knock then stuff my hands into my pockets, waiting impatiently. Maybe he's not here. Maybe he left. Maybe I can just turn around and go back to Chicago again.
Never mind. My planned has been ruined.
"Abby!?" He said as he opened the door.
"Hi Dad."
