Game Of Hearts

Brooks

e late for your flight!” I hear

ince we moved here, I was still going to miss my tiny room. I meant our tiny room since I shared the room with my lit

to the living room. Dad was sitted, leg crossed as if he wasn’t m

han I had hoped. I had already crossed my fingers for a laugh, or a hair rus

asked trying to ignite s

He repli

im. For some kind of connection. With Mom, it was effor

teractive but after we lost everything and had to m

king my favorite cookies to go. She said it was a lucky charm and it

stin and I always called it that because the bag seemed to always have everything, ev

sary items. When we moved in two months ago, it actually looked pretty

Cronners, a small town in the middle of nowhere; that’s when mom started not being able to let go

iling with stuffs. Stacks of plastic bins, filled with old papers and receipts and clothes we no longer used and toys and tangled jewelry and

stuff we wanted to take with us into moving boxes. And if we had to pack stuffs into moving boxes, that meant

me the packed cookies. I could see the look in her eyes. She

tion for teenage troubles. Her decision, made over the summer, would have

s born. Although I was just six then, I could still remember some memories I had with the Declan family. I was so happy when mum told me they agreed to be my host f

ps?” Mum inquired, her eyes

shrug, “I don’

had always hated the hairstyle, the rows of tightly wound hair fastened into place with painful, scalp

She held my hands and squeezed them tightly as she spoke, “I’m gonna miss you, Honey Pi

pulled her into a warm embrace,

inally broke the hug, the accumulated

okay?” She reassured me and I responded

and rolled them out front. Dad helped me load them at the back of the van while I said quick goodbyes to our neighbors espe

azed out of the window, silently saying good

, approached me with a mixture of sorrow. “I’m so sorry I was cold to you, Jenna. I just felt so guilty that I couldn’t

heart swelling with gratitude for being able to tal

t embrace. The airport bustling around seemed to fade into the background, le

turned towards the security chec

s” I whispered un

the flight landed and it was because of a dream I had. It was kind of scary, and funny too. In my

sons. The eldest was Conrad, we used to play tree house together when we were really really little and i could also remember the twi

ealized I actually had the fear of landing, if that was even a thing. I grabbed the small box where mum packed the cookies she m

elt my body sink into relaxation. Mum

eathing the Houston air. As my eyes scanned the sea of people waiting to welcome their families, I caught sight o

who didn’t seem to hear me the first time un

bag after him. He took me to where the limo was parked and asked me to hop in. Amidst breaths, I mana

the scenery. I couldn’t recall the roads any longer un