𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

𝑨𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆
____________
⠀
...

"O Lord, you know...
I have no friend like you, If heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?
The angels beckon me
from heaven's open door,
And I can't
feel at home in this world anymore.
...
I have a loving Savior up in glory-land,
I don't expect to stop until I with Him stand,

He's waiting now for me in
heaven's open door,
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore..."

The nun lowered her arms which had been commanding you and the others to sing for the past two hours, and you gave a sigh of relief. Your throat was hoarse, you were thirsty and pitchy, and incredibly bored.

All the children spilled out into the hallway and walked towards the entrance, where multiple parents were waiting to pick them up. You scanned the place, looking for Aunt Ellis' round and red little car, with her standing at the side and waving at you to come, maybe with an ice cream cone in her hand. Instead, your stomach dropped when you spotted Uncle Wes' old truck parked in the distance, well painted green and full of mud, silent, with no one standing outside.

You gulped.

"Good afternoon, Uncle Wes" You forced out as you climbed up into the front seat, not even daring to look at him, or call him loving cheesy terms of endearment like you did with Aunt Ellis.

He acknowledged your presence with a grunt and a nod, dry like old grumpy people do, and drove away from the school grounds. There were no words exchanged between the two of you, not questions about school or work, no excitement about something cool that you had found with your friend. He preferred it that way; silent, and tense.

It took you a long time, but soon you realized you weren't driving home. Instead he went further and took the road that led to the rich people houses, as you called them, a very well taken care of road that turned left, and went deep into the woods surrounding Krimson. Outside of the gates he parked, opening the door and telling you just one thing.

"Off. And behave"

Wes worked in the Victoriano family's fields, and probably had to come to manage something about business. Boring, you thought, following him past the entrance of the manor, and staying back in a chair, observing everything around you, detailing the doors and the stairs, and the chandelier, all expensive and dark and clean, pristine and intricate, and you wished you could have such a home some day. It'd be lovely.

"This world is not my home, ta-daa... ra-ra -ra.. my treasures are laid up.... somewhere....beyond the Blue..." you sang in a small voice, trying to entertain yourself for a while. It'd been just hours and you had already forgotten the lyrics...

"Hello" You heard, coming from an upstairs door. A girl stood at the doorframe, looking at you with bright and curious eyes. She was probably in her teens, beautifully dressed in a red and velvety gown with her jet black hair cascading down her shoulders. She went down the stairs with a giddy and graceful steps, and you thought she looked like some sort of princess. Snow White, maybe, or a vampirish version of Goldilocks.