the long way home [ h.s. ]

Twelve | 12

twelve | 12

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"Magdalene?" my mother calls when I step through the door, my backpack catching on the side and tugging me back a little.

"Yes?" I ask.

Composing myself, I readjust the straps and make my way into the kitchen, following her voice.

"You didn't check the mailbox this morning," she states, her tone emotionless in a very eerie way.

She stands with her back facing me, against the sink. My mother is pretty small, compared to the average woman-- thin, but not to the point of being frail-- and her shoulder blades look sharp underneath her running shirt.

I hear the clinking of a spoon against china.

She's making some tea.

I furrow my brow, and ask, "What?"

"The mail. You didn't check this morning," she replies, and I see her tilt her head back to take a sip. "There's a suspicious looking envelope in there--"

My breath suddenly catches in my throat.

In one quick movement, I toss my bag across the room and bolt outside again, into the rain, down our driveway and towards the old wooden mailbox.

It's painted light blue, with clouds dotted across-- one saying "Mary" in purple letters, and the other with "Thomas" written in Green. We painted it years ago; back when my hair was still sort of light in color, and his two front teeth were nowhere to be seen.

The red flap on the side is turned upward, and I push it down out of habit, before gripping on to the latch and prying the box open.

Sure enough, there's a pristine-looking creme envelope inside, almost hauntingly free of any crease or smudge, addressed to Magdalene T.  Craft.

Me.

"Jesus," I whisper, before snatching it greedily and spinning on my heels. My shoes slip and slide through the mud as I practically race back inside, and the sensation of feeling like I'll fall any minute makes the air inside of my lungs turn shallow.

Pure excitement bubbles in my stomach, ready to become too big for my body; to shoot out from my chest.

I kick the sneakers off at the door and then rush back to the table, not even checking to see my mother's expression.

I slam the envelope down.

"It's from the university," I state, the words feeling odd once they've been spoken.

She doesn't say a word; but then again, I can't blame her.

It's not like I doubt that I've gotten in-- I've had great marks since the start of high school and it would be no surprise for me to open it up and see a big fat "yes" printed out.

I suppose the strange feeling that's oozing from the both of us is some form of melancholiness.

I'm moving forward.

Starting something new.

Giving a soft smile, I tuck my fingers between the fold of the envelope and peel it open, breathing in the smell of paper and glue.

It's so quiet that I can hear my mother breathe in and out on the other side of the kitchen, the occasional scrape of the spoon in the teacup obnoxiously out of place.

The letter seems to unfold in my hands, so neat and clean, with its dainty black font stark against a perfect white surface, and a silver insignia in the corner.

I stare down at the words on the paper and let everything sink in; the bulky paragraphs before me are singing sweet songs of adulthood and future, which all seems so whimsical at the moment, and my mind can barely keep up with what my eyes can see.

I realize, as I'm absorbing the information, that I am no longer small and feeble-- and I won't be, from this point on. A new door is opening, letting in a pleasant draft.

I feel older than I should.

"Mary?" says a small voice.

I know that it's Thomas, by the innocence in his tone and the sound of his green backpack hitting the wooden floor.

He's home.

"Yeah?"

A pause.

"W-what does that s-say? Is it f-for you?"

I set the paper down and turn around.

He's standing in the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the hall, with forest green pants and a Spider-Man tee shirt, the laces of his shoes a few steps away from coming loose.

"I'm going to college, Thomas," I whisper with a smile so wide it hurts my cheeks, bending down and swooping him into my arms.

Planting the softest of kisses to his forehead, I breathe in the clean smell of his hair.

Things are going to be different from now on.

☓☓☓

a/n

She got accepted! Mary's going to college :3

I know this was pretty short, it looks like I'm going to be doing a double-update today :) so hang in there!

Thank you guys so much for reading, don't forget to vote and spread the word!

I have an announcement for you as well, but I think I'll save it for the next chapter, which is hopefully going up tonight :)

Lots of love.
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