The Home You Left, It's Waiting

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The plane had been booked the minute her mother got the phone call.

Passed out, face down in an alleyway 12 miles away from her apartment, emergency respondents immediately contacted her mother. An empty bottle of alcohol gripped tightly in her cold hand. It took two hours for her to come to and by that time her mother had already purchased her ticket.

Kat pulled her knees to her chest, thumbing her phone absentmindedly. Somewhere below, her brother was waiting for her. No doubt he had plans to keep her under lock and key. Nobody knew how to deal with her... Not even Kat herself.

She stared out at the clouds above the city of Berlin, the setting sun cast beautiful hues of golden light into a dark abyss of night. She pressed her forehead against the window, closing her eyes as the cool glass calmed her nerves. She was returning home. Her real home. But it felt like an alien planet after all this time. She had enjoyed her time in the US with her friends and here she was being uprooted and thrown into a metal box hurtling her towards nostalgic unfamiliarity.

She tilted her head down at her phone, eyeing the small screen in her hand. The words looked slightly blurry as she tried to focus on them again.

Meeting you at the airport. See you then :)

Everything was changing, she was no longer an adult. She was once again a little sister. A child in need of supervision. She turned her eyes towards the sky again, the vast expanse of night blanketing the city filled with lights. A city made for the nightlife. 

A new city for her to destroy herself in.

A promise of something new.

-

Exiting the terminal, she craned her neck over the crowd to find her brother. Her gaze fell upon couples rejoicing in each other's arms. Families engulfed their relatives in a flurry. She passed a couple, pressed together as tightly as possible. A small child in the mother's arms. The man smiled wide as he took the child and bombarded its rosy cheeks with kisses. They looked so happy, so complete.

She stood there, staring at them and wondering what their story was. She imagined the man had gone off to visit family. No... He went to write a novel, explaining the computer bag slung over his shoulder. He traveled to America for inspiration. His wife is very supportive, she decided. The child is named Clara. She has a nursery at home with pink walls-

Kat didn't hear her brother, Paul, sneak up on her.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, hoisting her into the air and spinning her around.

 "Meine Katze, wir geht's?!" He shouted with glee. 

She fell into a fit of laughter as she desperately tried to wiggle from his grip, a broad smile flashed over her face. Whatever she was feeling before was overshadowed by the fact that she had missed her brother. It had been a few years since they had even seen each other. They barely talked on the phone, save for holidays and special occasions. She couldn't bring herself to update him on her collapsing life, he deserved a better sister than her. 

But he had hardly changed, except perhaps a few acquired wrinkles around his eyes. His hair was still as dark as she remembered and he still kept that ugly haircut she hated. When he finally set her down, she readjusted her jacket as she feigned annoyance with his stunt.

"You aren't looking too bad, old man. How old are you now? 60?" She sighed as she pulled him into a tight hug. He chuckled and clapped her on the back, "You haven't gotten any funnier."

He pulled away from the hug and kissed her on the cheek, taking her bag from her hand, "How does it feel to be back home? I see you haven't lost your accent from all those years in Amerika."

Hurt- A Rammstein StoryOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant