He Came From The Wild

Chapter Thirteen | Her Story

If driving in a car had Braydon mesmerized, the train ride was just as thrilling. While he remembered so much of the world, small things like transport had left him. The distraction of staring out the window as the carriage flew along the tracks also helped clear his mind of the woman.

Arriving at Miranda’s parents house, the sound of music, barking dogs and light chatter greeted them as Miranda paid for the taxi. Braydon took the time to absorb in each detail of the house as it stood surrounded by a perfectly mowed front lawn. A variety of roses filled the garden beds leaving a welcoming fragrance in the air. A few cars lined the street and driveway, and the open verandah of the colonial style home looked like it could fit many more people inside.

“You’re okay with dogs and stuff aren’t you?” Miranda paused as they made their way along the wooden decking to the stairs.

“Yes?” Braydon looked confused by her question as going into the house, it felt like a place to call home.

The neutral palates of the walls and furniture had been brightened with splashes of color. Everything looked plush and comfortable and the cool air of the air conditioning was a nice change to the outside heat. The aroma of cooking meat on the grill had Braydon finding his own way through the expansive living area to where he could see a few people sitting around the outside table by the barbeque.

“I told Mum to keep it simple, instead she invites the whole family!” Miranda groaned after peeking outside too. She took the bags Braydon forgot he was holding and headed up the set of stairs he hadn’t even noticed yet.

Opting to follow her, the bedrooms all came off the main corridor and a sitting room turned home office and library filled the space by the small balcony at the end. Miranda pointed out his bedroom and then the bathroom and following her into her room, it was almost like stepping back in time.

Pale pink covered the walls and the white iron, double bed sat proudly in the center of the room. The cover was a matching shade of pink covered in a white floral design. It was so feminine and so different from the more modern, simple design of her furnishings at her apartment. Photographs remained stuck around the mirror of the dresser, and a poster of a boy-band was on the wardrobe door, but apart from that the room was rather empty.

“I keep telling them to redecorate, I don’t know why they keep it like this.” Miranda sighed, not drawn into the nostalgia of her old room.

“It’s so, girly!” Braydon was at a loss for words and Miranda only thumped his arm as she walked by to put her bag in the wardrobe.

“I know!”

Funny thing was, she seemed to belong here more than she did in her apartment, but Braydon kept that thought to himself. Walking over to the mirror, he looked at a very young and different version of Miranda in the photographs. In some her blonde hair was changed to pink and she had kept it short above her shoulders, unlike now as she let it grow half way down her back.

In the center of the mirror he noticed the familiar scrolling text of her tattoo as a banner over it all and as she came to stand beside him, he could sense her sadness.