Fighting Flying Doves

Prologue

Hellos. I don't write amazing high quality-brilliant plot line kind of thing, I just love it,it is just something I enjoy immensely. Sorry for mistakes of grammar and spelling. I'll try to update but I am doing piles of coursework *cries*so it might not be that regular. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue of sorts :)

My Mother had peculiar habits. One of which was that all the figurines in the house were to be turned so the back was what you could see. She said the faces scared her too much, she also said that was what made my Dad leave, the final straw in their frayed relationship.

He had come home from work one day and turned them all around, facing frontwards. Muttering and pacing, this is how she found him. Just one move- stretching out a hand to turn it back to the wall and he came undone. Screaming and fighting, he left for a hotel and that was apparently that.

He was odd once, just like Mum. They met in France, both biking with a friend. He said he was captured by her voice and she said it was the bike that she liked the most.

They were both only 19.

They got married 7 months after they met, in the same motorway service stop in which they had met. They eloped and brought the people dearest to them along as witnesses. Their first home was a caravan in France and then, after the death of my maternal Grandmother, a house was left to them as inheritance.

And so they moved to Northern Ireland and lived there for six years. Having myself and my elder brother Liam in that time. Mum said they had married too quickly when they were too young. Dad never said anything but I'm going to have plenty of opportunity to ask him now.

Mum's funeral felt like a play. They were people who I had never seen before gathered around the grave, grasping each other and crying silently. It felt like an act.

I thanked people for coming and stiffly got through. Liam was always beside me, guarding me from who knows what. He cried. I didn't. I had when the news came and the shock was there for days but now I blocked it or Id break down and wouldn't know when to stop.

Through the sea of unrecognisable faces came one I was expecting yet half hoping wouldn't come. My Father.

'I am very sorry.' he stood before us, head bowed.

'Nothing to apologise for, Dad.' Liam said, though his tone said otherwise.

We stood in awkward silence until what I was expecting came.

'Dusk,' Dad began, 'You will have to come with me. Custody rights.'

I nodded. Knowing I had to, without Liam.

And that, was that.

I was going to live in Washington State with my Dad and his new family. I had known my Father was rich but not to the full extent.

When we arrived at the airport my Father directed me to a place I had never been in before. We passed by-without any security checks or queues. Dad showed a woman a card of sorts and I was being led to the runway.

A small aeroplane was parked-seemingly ready to depart. Dad suddenly walked up the stairs and I stopped.

'Wait,' I laughed humourlessly, 'This is your plane?'

He turned and nodded curtly. I felt the anger boil up inside me. I followed him up the stairs and was momentarily struck by the interior design and the space but the anger won in my strongest emotion and I walked over to him.

'Your own plane?' I repeated my earlier question.

He looked up at me from his seat and set down his newspaper, he waited for me to continue.

'What? Not good enough for regular airlines?' I started to speak quicker, 'did you give Mum a lot to raise us? No, too busy buying a plane. Fly this out to LEDCs much? Help people? Tell me, do you help anyone BUT yourself?' I was in my highest point of anger that had built up over years. 'You make me sick in your ridiculous comfort. You're so selfish! We were lucky to get a cheque for holidays, that must have put a BIG hole in your bank account.' I was breathing heavily and stared into his calm face. I may have started to rant again but he interrupted me before I could.

'We should be taking off now, you should sit.' He got up and made his way to the cockpit.

I stared, dumbfounded after him and sitting on the furthest seat away from Dad I pulled my ipod out and blasted the music. Trying to forget everything that had happened in the past month.