Hope you like. Picture of Andy on the side
forest
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“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
― William Faulkner
Present Day
Dylan’s POV
I was on a train, on my way to Massachusetts . . . to live with my grandparents. After the accident, my brother lived with my dad’s friend for six years, until he got a girlfriend and he became a drunk. It was the middle of February. My head rested on the frosty window, looking out to the snow covered fields of Pennsylvania. The evergreen’s with their green needle-looking leaves poked out of the snow. Lakes were frozen over and trees didn’t look so bare. My little brother, Andrew, sat in the seat across from me. He had fallen asleep about an hour or two ago. The last couple weeks I’ve had difficulties getting to sleep and having nightmares from what happened in the past. Andrew groaned from the seat in front of me.
“Are we there yet?” He asked.
“Not yet,” I shrugged, “Probably about an hour or two.”
Andrew sighed and rested his head against the window. “I don’t feel comfortable moving,” Andrew said, eyes glued to the glistening snow.
“I don’t either, but Gunner kicked us out of his house. Grandma and Grandpa are our last hope.”
“I still have nightmares,” Andrew said in almost a whisper, “Like I was an out of body prospective.”
“You’re not alone,” I sighed.
“Boston Massachusetts, fifty-five minutes,” A male’s voice said over the speakers.
I got up and grabbed my things. I tossed Andy’s bag at his face, causing him to jump. The train horn honked and the train gained speed. Gunner’s house was in the middle of Virginia, so we had to go all the way across the country to meet him. We pulled up to a train station where people stood huddled in jackets and scarves. “Put your stuff on, we’re almost there.”
Andy put on his coat and gloves and sat back in his seat. “Is grandma gonna be waiting for us?”
“Hopefully, Andy,” I said quietly, “Hopefully.”
About 30 minutes later, we arrived at the train station. When the doors opened, a bristling cold breeze wrapped itself around us. I pulled up my hood and we headed out to the parking lot. Along the way, I saw an older man who was desperate to catch his green scarf. He kept jumping up in the air and tried to catch it. I noticed he had a big Adam’s apple. His hat was about to fly off his head. Andy grabbed my hand as we walked up to the tunnel to the parking lot. A guard stopped us.
“Do you have any type of weapons on you? Guns, knives, ax?”
“What? No,” I said.
The guard put his hand to my chest. “Let me check.”
He pulled out a handheld metal detector and moved it up and down. I turned. The guard nodded and did the same thing to, Andy. He nodded and told us to have a nice day.
“What was that about?” Andy asked.
I felt my cheeks heat up with rage. “Protection, just in case someone was going to go on a shooting spree.”
Andy nodded and looked at the ground. I sighed. The last time I was here, my parents was going to see my grandparents son graduate high school, which was a little over seven years ago. We stepped out from the tunnel and I looked around. There was no sign of my grandparents. “Sit down in the tunnel. We’ll wait there.”
Andy obeyed my orders and I sat next to him.
“What if they’re dead like Mom and Dad?”
“Don’t say that,” I whispered.
Tears stung my eyes. The air in the tunnel was freezing and tight. A horn honked from outside the tunnel. I got up and checked who it was. An older person waved at me to get in the car.
“They’re here, Andy. Let’s go,” I picked up my duffle bag and suitcase.
“Okay,” Andy got up and grabbed his bag. “I’m ready.”
And we headed off.
YOU ARE READING
Lost
AdventureWhen Dylan Jones was a kid, him and his family got into a tragic accident, leaving his parents dead and his brother to be in a coma. Six years later and Dylan and his brother are forced to live with there grandparents in Massachusetts. Being bullied...
