A Hiker's Dream [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1 - Moving Away

Hey guys, so this is my first upload of a story I've written. I wrote it when I was young so try not to judge too much! I never show my work to anyone so I hope you like it. If you do please let me know and I'll upload some more!

Thanks!

Alexxxx

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now you enjoy yourselves!” My mum cried as she hugged me tightly by the waist, causing me to gasp for breath. For a lighter older woman she had one hell of a grip. Her dark curly hair dangled in my face and I blew it away, only for it to come bouncing back at me again, threading itself into my mouth, which I spat out disgustingly.

            I was taller than my mum: she was a small woman. I was now five foot seven, two inches taller than Mum, who pointed out this size difference every time we stood beside each other, more so when people were around us, usually her friends. Sometimes she told strangers and sometimes she told random relatives who already knew or could at least see it with their own eyes. Every time she did, I would go red for gaining the attention of whoever it was she was talking to, wishing that the ground would gobble me up and spit me back when it was over.

            She was always wearing jeans with any top she could find, preferably with a bright colour on the front. There were constant lines near her green eyes, because of the constant smile that was plastered on her face, and her lips were big and full, covered with red-orange lipstick. She always wore eye make-up that was either blue, purple, grey or glittery. No other colour was ever going to reach those lids. Therefore I didn’t bother buying anything else for her. She was very predictable when it came to things like that.

            She was very protective over me, calling if I was a minute late from being home. She was a bubbly woman, though, and loved to go out, when she could that is. Most of the time she was looking after me and getting me ready for the things I did such as football, badminton, acting and basketball. Then she would insist on driving me to my friends’ house or she would help with homework or house cleaning. She was always busy, and liked to be so. She loved helping me, something she could do to know exactly where I was at every moment of the day. It probably wasn’t good of me to take advantage of such a giving mother but I couldn’t help it. I depended on her to do this stuff and she had to juggle all of these things I needed to do during the week. It wasn’t as though I minded, however.

            That was one of the reasons why she was crying when she was letting me go with Dad for the weekend. She didn’t like to let go of me. She wanted to be next to me all the time, making sure I was safe. She hated the fact that she wasn’t going to know where I was every second of the day. It probably wasn’t going to stop her calling to ask every five minutes if I had everything I needed. It was a bit pathetic really. She should have been able to trust my dad with me. It wasn’t as if I was a baby. I was a teenager and could look after myself, not like she saw me as one.

            I prised myself off of her and gave her an encouraging smile to stop her thinking that I didn’t want to be near her. I‘d done that before without the smile and she‘d been so upset she‘d cried as soon as I‘d gone out to see my friends and hadn’t stopped until I‘d got home, where she‘d wrapped me in a blanket and apologised profusely for whatever she’d done wrong, offering hot chocolate and marshmallows and all sorts. Though I got the special spoilt-child treatment, it made me feel guilty that she took all of the blame completely on herself. Therefore I didn’t dare do it again and I made sure that I smiled back at her to show that I wasn’t mad even if I pushed her gently away from me.