DISCLAIMER: Just to be safe, I don't own any of the trademarks mentioned in this entire story.
The car that brought me to the biggest nightmare of my entire family just before I was going to judo stopped as my parents looked at me angrily for my constant 'whining', or at least, that was how they called it.
"Can't you just give the guy a bloody chance?!" My mother snapped – she was the one who stopped the car on a parking spot nearby – as I dropped my fifth comment about how I didn't want to go where I was about to go. She sounded furious, but I wasn't about to let that scare me off.
"Why? He doesn't give me a chance either! Everything I do is wrong, every attempt at a conversation with me ends up in him insulting me, not to mention the constant fume of alcohol he's got about him! I HATE him, mum!" Now, my father was being pissed.
"He's my brother, Edgar. We need to visit him from time to time." My father's voice was calmer, but with a clear undertone of anger.
"Then do it! But leave me home!" I replied to my father. My mother replied: "Uncle David wants to see you from time to time, Ed." Now, this was driving me furious. I hate my name abbreviated as 'Ed' – I like the name Edgar, but only when it's not abbreviated – so people rarely use it and my mother only uses it when she wants to draw my attention. This was one of those moments.
"Then he manages to hide it pretty well, mummy," I replied, emphasising the last word. That usually was my response when she called me Ed – she hated being called mummy, it always had to be mum. "Because everything I do seems to be wrong and I hate him. Plus, I'm going to judo anyway, so I'm only going to be there shortly – a waste of my time!"
The man we were debating over was in his late thirties and wasting his life away; 'life is too short' was usually his motto and he made that very clear in his lifestyle. He was an alcohol addict, but the sort of guy that always said he was going to quit 'tomorrow'. I've always hated guys who made promises they knew they couldn't keep, and I don't really like addicts who just don't want to see their drug isn't everything in the world. So yeah, great combination, huh?
He was also a fanatical smoker of marihuana. We all wished we could turn him in, but somehow he either manages to get away or he talks us out of it.
He had black, thin hair that was balding away very quickly because of his unhealthy lifestyle. He was quite tall – being tall is in the family, my father's also above average, as am I – and he had hazel eyes that had… sadness in them, overwhelming when you would look at him, making you feel sorry for him. He rarely had any woman with him; sometimes he would pick a girl up at the local bar, but that girl wouldn't stay longer with him than a day. His absolute record, since I knew him, was a week.
"Then you can walk back home!" My mother shouted. I was fine with that; I knew the way.
"FINE! I'll go straight to judo if you don't mind!" I stepped out of the car and I shut the door behind me. I was going to walk all the way back and I didn't mind it one bit, considering the alternative.
We hadn't driven that far from home before we finally started having a row, so that was why I didn't have a problem walking all the way back. My judo school wasn't far from home, so it wasn't that much of a problem to walk there. I knew the way, or at least I thought so.
However, I have this horrible sense of direction – seriously, I can get lost in a box just big enough to contain only me if you give me enough time – but I believed that because of the short distance, I wouldn't have any problems with it.
How wrong I turned out to be.
I don't really remember where it went wrong, but I believe it was halfway that I took a wrong turn. Three streets later, I realized I had made a mistake.
Horrible, but what was I going to do?
I knew exactly what was necessary. I dialled a number on my cellphone; it rung four times before someone finally picked it up. My name was on the screen of her cellphone, so she immediately knew I called her.
"You're not home, so you must've gone somewhere. When you're away, you don't call me back, unless you're in some emergency situation and you need me. I can only think of one and that's that you went to your uncle, but you changed your mind and you walked back home, only to get lost. Am I right?" I smiled. Evelyn had always been good in guessing my whereabouts; from time to time, she was wrong, but she usually had been right. It was because we had spent so much time with each other.
"Almost. I went to Uncle David by car, because my parents wanted me there, but after a short distance, we got into a row… so, yeah… I'm sort of… lost. I'm not going home, though, but immediately to judo."
"At what street are you?" Evelyn asked almost immediately.
"Err…" I looked around to find the name of the street, which I found quickly, "At the Johnson Street." I heard Evelyn thinking out loud.
Unlike me, Evelyn had a great sense of direction and a great memory when it came to things like that. Her grandfather lived there, so she knew the neighbourhood.
"I think… do you have a greengrocer in front of you? Wait a minute, I'll grab a map." Part of her good sense of direction was being able to read cards better than I could. "Yeah, you should go take the… second turn left, the third turn right, and then you'll be in our street. From there on, I think you know the way to judo, right?"
"No problem, bro."
We were not related; however, we knew each other so well, we had grown to see each other as brother and sister. That was why we called each other like that occasionally.
Enjoying the nice summer sun on my skin, I did exactly as Evelyn called me and I was in my street very quickly. From there on, I saw Evelyn waving from the window; I waved back before I continued my walk to judo – I knew that route by heart because I had walked it so often.
I arrived there and entered the building. None of my friends were there yet, but there was an age-group already judoing; it was the one before mine and I believe it covered all people between eight and twelve; all groups were made based on the age of the judoka's.
Anyway, I walked into the changing room and changed into my judo clothes that I had brought with me – I had brought a bag with me that contained them – because I had nothing better to do apart from just watching those other guys playing judo.
When I was done changing, I went to the judo mat and an old wooden bench that was there to let the crowd watch, but I noticed I wasn't alone in there.
A girl – also in a judo suit and clearly new, because I didn't recognize her – was sitting on that bench.
She was a little smaller than I was – surprise – and had long, brown hair that was wrapped up in a ponytail. Her eyes were as blue as the sky in the summer and among the nicest I had ever seen. She noticed me and she smiled at me – one of the warmest, most well-meant smiles I had ever seen.
Oh yeah, I liked her.
Author's Note: I hope you liked the prologue of my new story! Like I promised you guys at my last story, this one is completely finished and I will post one chapter every Sunday. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this; but the story is one of the biggest I've ever written and it took me longer than I thought it would. But then again, the stories always do.
Please leave me a review! Even though the story is finished, it won't mean that I won't change spelling mistakes or plot points that you find bad, because I will. English is not my mother language, so please tell me spelling or grammar mistakes that I've made; I need them to improve my English. Thanks in advance!
Until next Sunday!