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Beauty and the Beast

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This is my home! Right here! I don't want to leave; no, you cannot make me. This is my home!

My heart wailed out silent cries as Father pushed up the last of our luggage into the train whose paint was peeling grey under the harsh sun. I watched as Father gave my aunt a brief hug leaving her before she even released him. Her plump arms stayed up in air. The sweet smell of cupcakes filled the air as she proceeded towards me, with her ash coloured curls bouncing up and down with every step. She took me close, building around me a sense of false reassurance.... Maybe; just maybe she will beg Him, to let me stay, to let me stay here.... She held me tight against her bosom and pressed every ounce of air out of my being, my lungs struggled to be freed but, but my heart longed to stay. After what only seemed like a few nano seconds, although the grimace on father's face hinted differently, she let go of me. I stood there baffled, as my eyes turned into spheres of glass, ready to burst into a fountain at the slightest puff. Father's iron clutch on my frail wrist brought me to a rude awakening; I am leaving. Leaving my home forever.

In denial, I chuckled at my memories of joy as I gulped down my fear with the marshmallow scented air, clenching my teeth to the point of numbness. I forced my damp face tightly, stretch of muscles to resemble what may have a smile once. I shoved my free hand into the warmth of my armpit, and held my coat fiercely, in fear I may give away to the quivering nerves, and bust out into a sob. Father threw me into the cabin, as if I too were just a baggage. I tried many futile attempts to voice out a last goodbye, to my apple cheeked, red eyed, aunty however my figure transformed into a breathing statute stuck to the spot with its lips sealed shut. Deep within me a faint echo of cries burst but to those around I gave a deafening silence.

Again father locked my tiny pale hand in his and dragged me to my seat. At least, my head chimed, even in all this distraught, it's a window seat. Fruitlessly my heart wept, I damned that cursed day mother died, the day father announced his transfer to the city....I cursed father.

Our train hissed as it slowly started to move, ever so timidly at first, like young children after the first snow of the season, treading cautiously even on a familiar track. But as usual father was oblivious to all that occurred around him. He was too busy with the Daily Telegraph to notice this or that we have left, home. I strained my pupils till the last faint dot of what resembled familiarity, of home disappeared. Settled back in my seat I pushed my puffy bun of auburn hair into the hard plastic head rest, my neck shrieked in discomfort. With legs shaking and fingers twiddling and mind wandering I hoped my heart bruises would ease but to no avail they continued. From my wandering thoughts I looked up, to a see a strange sight. Father - my



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