©2006 Kirsten Nussey

“I didn’t want to come here.” I thought, as I stared restlessly out of the condensation covered window of the train; my eyes roaming freely over the dark grey sky above, taking in it’s every detail: the sudden flashes of bright blue light as the lightening crackled across the sky, the only source of light illuminating the deep black clouds that poured forth the rain that was persistently hitting the glass beside me.

Unfortunately I didn’t have the choice, after my mother’s death just two weeks ago, I was forced to come and stay with my estranged aunt, whom I hadn’t met since I was two years old – I certainly couldn’t remember her. My mother, Vivian, and I had never been close, and it had been a shock for people to learn that I wasn’t distraught about her death. They simply put it down to denial, assuming that eventually the reality would sink in and that I would start to miss her. But how can you miss what was never really there in the beginning?

It seemed that I wasn’t the only person that had little contact with my mother. In the two years after we had moved to the city my mother and my grandmother had exchanged just a few letters and for the thirteen years after that there was no contact with any other family members at all. I wasn’t sure what had happened between any of them – my aunt was her only sister and yet we hadn’t even spoken of her. It was because of this that I was rather shocked when she had agreed to keep me when so many others had not, yet all the same the storm outside created a sense of foreboding within me.

I knew little about my father and my mother had rarely spoken of him. He left my mother – and me - for another woman when I was five, shortly after my birthday. The only information I could get out of my mother on the matter was that she was a whore – though it was more likely than not that that would have simply been her anger speaking. I do know, however, that my father died in a car accident around three years after that whilst driving home drunk. He always had been a little too fond of his drink.

I began to wonder what my new life would be like; understanding only that it would be different to that which I had become accustomed to. I had been brought up in the vibrant streets of London, living in a large upper-class apartment and receiving home tutoring. The standards were high and I knew that it had been a good education, but I also knew that my mother and most of her family had attended expensive private schools where they had received the highest possible degree of education. I wondered what sort of school I would be attending now. What schools were there in the middle of nowhere?

The train was headed for a place, in what I considered to be the middle of no where, which I’d never even heard of. I knew nothing of the lifestyle that my aunt – whose name I knew to be Adrienne – kept; the lifestyle to which I was expected to adapt. I was fairly certain that she had no children or at least none that I knew of, and that she was a relatively wealthy woman – as was my mother. Beyond that I was utterly clueless and at a loss to what would become of my future.

I awoke to the slowing motion of the train with my head pressed firmly against the glass of the window. I stretched slowly, giving myself a chance to get re-acquainted with where I was before allowing my self a swift glance at the world outside and of the approaching station. The storm seemed to have stopped for the most part, giving way to a relatively mild rain and the station ahead appeared to be a somewhat small one in an equally small village.

It was then that the train’s conductor stepped into my carriage to inform me simply that we were approaching my station and to ensure that I collected any luggage before departing from the train. I only had a small suitcase, containing my essential clothes and a backpack containing my play station portable, some money and my ipod nano with me. The rest of my clothing and any other belongings had been sent ahead of me a couple of days earlier and should already be waiting for me when I arrived.

I stepped off of the train feeling quite lost in this unfamiliar place, the station was empty and I had no idea where I was supposed to go from there. In fact, I had thought and simply assumed that I was going to be met at the station by my aunt and taken back to her house wherever that may be. I still didn’t know what her home was like.

Perhaps she’s just late? I thought to myself as I sat down on one of the few benches overlooking the two parallel tracks.

A/N: Well this is it folks... the first chapter of my first ever slash Finally. I'd be grateful to know what you think so far and for any constructive criticism that you may have. I haven't got much else to say right now but thank you for taking the time to read.