A/N: wow! It's been ages since I ever even looked at this story. I had given up on it, but by request of review, I think I'm going to try to finish it. It may seem a little different from the other chapters, but my writing style has changed a bit since the last time I updated. I'm really not good at updating frequently, but I'm going to try my best to keep this up. This chapters short, I mean unusually short, but I'll make then longer once I get back into the swing of things.
I didn't want to look back, to see his sad eyes starring at me. Men, why did men have to make everything so difficult? Leaving was supposed to be easy.
My eyes were welling up with tears again, the path become blurred. I can't let this get in the way of my plans, friend or no friend. I'm not meant to be here…
The farm was coming into view again, god I hated to look at it. After practically killing myself over that lousy garden it looked absolutely the same.
I pulled open the door with one hand well trying hard to balance with one flimsy crutch. Damn, why did they make these things so hard to walk with.
I took my signature place on the corner of the dusty bed. There was my luggage. Sitting beside the door, silently mocking me. "Don't look at me like that…" oh god… I was talking to luggage. It really went to show how absolutely alone I felt in this town.
If only my friends could see me now…sure they would be happy I was coming home. They had been supportive when I told them I was leaving, but still, I could tell they didn't want me to go. But then again…maybe they wouldn't want me to give up this easy.
I shook my head. No. Stop thinking. It was like world war three inside my head. There was the part of me that wanted to leave right now. To have things go back to the way they once were, my mother tucking me in at night, or making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when I scraped my knee. But…. then there was strong Claire. The small smidge of determination that didn't seem to want to leave her.
I sighed, dropping my head slightly. Crap.
I was acting like a baby. What was I doing? Why was I sitting here, starring at my feet? Why was I being a brat?
I grabbed a crutch, and stood up the best I could. I didn't want to sit. No, I had to do something. I glanced around the damp room. It was dark, and meek. But… maybe I could do something with it. I let my creativity take over.
First to go would have to be the dust. No, the curtains. I took a step back and surveyed the space closer. Damnit, everything you could think of was wrong with his house. It was outdated, greasy and grimy, plus it smelt like feet. But it was MY house, and I was going to have to start acting like a grown up and deal with it.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine my room at home for inspiration. It had
Been beautiful. Canopy bed, dressers of cloths. What had mom done with my room when I left? It didn't seem like her to turn it into her art room or something, but then again…
I shook my head. I had to stop thinking too much. I would have to get over my petty fears and try to accomplish something. My first goal as the new and improved adult Claire, cleaning up this farm. Maybe Gray would help me, if I asked nicely. Gray…yah right, chances are he wouldn't even talk to me after the little display I made. My only chance at a real friend, and I went and screamed at him. I mentally hit myself, stupid, stupid Claire. Goals two as my new and improved mature self, apologize to Gray for being a self-centred ignorant baby.
Ok. Now was the time to get focused. If I were going to fix my dump of a house I would need supplies. I grabbed a dusty looking napkin and a pen out of my bag and started madly scribbling supplies. Paint, a couple of lights, a new set of curtains, a broom and duster, maybe some febreeze. I groped through my bag for my wallet. I had saved for almost a year before leaving, but the budget would still be tight.
I finished counting the wad of bills, my spirits dropping slightly. Ok, maybe I would have to do without the febreeze.