Starting Fresh

Hey :) So I've decided to write a new story which isn't One Direction related at all. I'd love your opinions and comments so if you like please tell me and if you dont tell me as well. :) thank you

- A

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Hi. I'm Rachel Mc Hugh. I've been living in the busy city of London for the last 5 months with my brother. We moved here to start a fresh, a new start. I relocated from a small town in the North of Donegal after my parents death. I loved Ireland, I still do, and I would have happily stayed there for the rest of my natural life. I have never been one of those cliché girls who dream of running away from a small town with very little going for it, to go and live in the city lights and start my own business and fall in love with someone who shares my interests. I'm, in fact, the total opposite. I loved my home town of Dunalk. Granted there were very few shops and everybody knew everybody else's business but its what I loved. A close knit community of people who differ but are some how the same. Itfelt liked you belonged somewhere, and that's what every body wants isn't it, a sense of belonging?

My family had a great deal of money so life was never very difficult. We lived in, what could me described as, a manor. With enough rooms to accommodate the small town we lived in, and enough acres of land to rare the towns livestock our life was pretty cushy. But my brother and I appeared to differ in our opinions and when I was twelve he emigrated to London. With no qualifications and work experience at the local garage my parents never thought he would make a success, and they were correct, but the still supported him every step of the way. He knew if he ever needed money our parents would have it in his bank account in seconds but never once did he ask for it, some how he made his money, enough to rent a small apartment in Shepard's bush. My parents and I visited him for the first time just months after his drastic relocation but to our surprise he was perfectly happy, and was making just enough money to support himself. My parents were as proud as punch of my brother and he knew it. 

When you lose your parents as an adult its hard. Very hard. So when I lost both of my parents aged 15 it was devastating. Especially in the way I lost them, so sudden, so cruel, I never got to say goodbye. My brothercame over for the funeral and was evidently putting on a brave front, never crying in front of me, and somehow consoling me though the darkest days of my life. It was a week after my parents burial that my brother decided it would be best if I moved over with him to London. I should probably tell you my brothers name is Daniel. He is 24 and is an unsigned musician who, during the day works in Starbucks but as dusk falls up on the insomniac's city he does gigs at different clubs, pubs and taverns in the hope that someone will spot him and sign him right there and then. But so far nothing has happened for him and it appears he just cant catch a break. 

After selling the house, land and horses we once owned in the emerald isle we were left with £800,000but still no parents. Between us, myself and Daniel,we decided we would save the money and use it to buy a  new flat in Chelsea. Which we did. I enrolled at a local school filled with kids who couldn't quite afford the posh, secondary modern down the street but had the intelect to match those in Oxford university. I had neither the want or need to go to an upmarket school with all the whistles and bells. I still have no idea what I want to do in life but I know my aim is to return to Ireland, so if I didn't use the money to pay for the secondary modern down the road then I could use it to buy a house in my hometown.  That is my only aim, to go back and live in Ireland where people actually know me, where the people actually like me.