See You Again: Wlw Short Story

Far Away and Apart

Little boys stifled great laughs, and ducked away from their parent's grasp, who were coldly scolding them for their actions. The younger girls sat, eyes widened in perpetual longing, for they were not permitted to rough-housing.

Lillian rolled her eyes, and helped herself to yet another sliver of cake displayed perfectly on the table, masking confusion.
She found it ironic how sexist the women in her family truly were- they were women, it would make logical sense for them to want to advocate for their rights...right? Alas, change was dangerous occasionally, so they tended to go with what had been written in stone quite some time ago.
It bothered Lillian immensely. Her mother had learnt such things from her grandmother, and Lillian wanted to never become a spitting image of her, with her twisted beliefs and raging dependence on men.
Foul. Lillian shivered to herself once more.

Chapter 3: The Inevitable Arrives

The earth seemed to radiate a positive glow: nature was thriving in the autumn air, and the property's apple trees were holding bright developing fruit.
Everything seemed ripe with possibility, and Lillian took that as a good sign, for today was the day when she was to leave her home, and not return for precisely 4 years. A mind-boggling amount of time. Nevertheless, as Lillian munched upon a stack of toast, and her parents made small talk over steaming coffee, Lillian couldn't help imagining them as mere irrelevances, for it eased the lump in the back of her throat.

"Ready dear?" Her father inquired after a brief glance at his watch, reflecting light from the chandelier over the vast dinner table, full of steaming breakfast. Her father had allowed her to help in the construction of that table. They had trekked out in the bitter fall air to chop down hard-woods, inadvertently chopping down one not on their property. They laughed and sprinted from the neighbour shaking his fist, who later moved away from the 'hoodlums'.
Yes, the table held memories aplenty, and was drenched in the lasting memories of conversations whose spirits were ever-so gloomy today.

Lillian glanced over at her father, who was showered in apparent ignorance. Maybe he truly did not care. That was fine, Lillian had firmly decided, a determined tilt in her brows, lips in a relative frown.

She gulped down orange juice, neglecting the plate of eggs, vivid yellow against the grey room of dining.

"Alright dear, let's go!" Her mother entered the room, voice buzzing with glee. Glee.

Lillian nodded curtly, and sprinted down the dark halls, up the winding staircase to her bedroom, situated at the very end of the hall by the back window. Her four-poster bed sat untouched, sheets pulled taunt and tidy. The vast room was occupied with grey. Boxes were scattered about, and her room was stripped of its floral wallpaper, drawings of chalk scrubbed bare, with the abrasive hand of discontent tendencies.
A singular trunk, a massive one, lay at her feet.
Lillian gave one last lingering look, and dismissively turnt out of the room, willing her pace to quicken, as if her side-view was a blur, she was sure to skirt her gaze quickly over her brother's room, and not remain any longer. They never were close. He spent every waking hour after school working on the crops, tending to the livestock, basking in the outside breeze and having access to every acre of the property. Lillian desperately wished in that moment, that she had socialized more kindly, yet occasionally her actions directed towards him were the polar opposite of altruistic: they were greened with envy.

The front door was ajar in preparation, a breeze tossing her blonde hair about.
She trudged across the great entryway, to the very end of a driveway, where a dark vehicle would transport her away.
The trees lining the driveway seemed to reach their branches out in farewell, shaking leaves out so they could dance across the horizon, filling the hopeless sky with vivid orange.