Oneshots- Book 1

Homesick

A/N: This goes somewhat deep. I only implied gender to the main character, not a name or person that she was affiliated with.

She just didn't get it. One hour she was fine and the next she was hiding under the brim of her hat, sobbing. She didn't seem to have an apparent reason for the crying, it seemed. The whole world just turned melancholy and gray. Her smile would devolve to a frown and her bottom lip would quiver. A discharge of emotion would be heard through an auditory gasp of air, and suddenly her eyes watered. The first tears came as well as the lump in the back of her throat. Before she knew it, she was crying in front of her peers.

Her peers had only met her a week ago on the campgrounds and they knew what was happening. One rolled her eyes, while another came to comfort her. She appreciated the comfort, but didn't accept it. It felt way too close to comfort, whatever she was crying over. She diagnosed it as wanting to go home, better known as homesickness. It was only the want of having her father with her, despite having the privilege of hearing his voice daily. The other campers were left to their own devices, not being in contact with their parents for that whole week. However, there was a big difference between them and herself. They didn't want to see their parents. The other campers wanted to be independent and free of the stresses of home. She did not want that. She wanted to be near home, near her parents, her father to be more specific.

Then another fear stared her in the face. It tapped at her mind like an annoying relative that won't forget the fact that you turned a year older. She had always had conflicting loyalties between her parents; it was a downside of being an only child. The worst part was that she knew the truth. She knew exactly what side she was partial to, she'd known for years. Everyone else knew it, too. It was obvious between these fits of homesickness and mentions of him. She loved her mother; she always did. But something always lured her back to her father. Perhaps it was their common interests or the inside jokes they had that she could never receive from her mother. The conflict seeped into the forefront of her mind. Guilt filled the empty chasm in her chest. It clogged her throat, preventing her from saying anything. Tears once again bordered the edges of her eyes and they forced themselves out against her will. She let them out in another audible emotional discharge.

The comfort was again appreciated but not accepted. Now she was haunted by a conflict of loyalty, not a want for home. But the people around her didn't know that. They thought she was just a homesick teenager, someone who wanted her dad to be with her. If only it were that simple. She wished she could tell them about her true conflict of loyalty between her parents, but she couldn't afford that information passing over to her mother, who was on the campgrounds with her. That would lead to drama outside of the campgrounds; it would follow her home.

The conflict between her parents continued to torment her on and off. Fortunately, it would only do so for two more days before she could go home. Those two days may have gone by at a snail's pace, but it was all worth it when she managed through camp graduation without shedding a tear.

The girl didn't really learn how to deal with her conflicts. She wasn't sure if she was old enough to comprehend them or was just not ready. All she is able to say is that she did, in fact, shed a tear when she saw her father again when she returned home.