chapter 1: A seed planted

CHAPTER 1

' you don't have to go, Primrose- the internet exists for a reason.'' my aunt Mina said defiantly through the phone. a woman who despised anything modern until it suited her

I brought my fingers to gently massage my temples as I composed yet another counter argument.

''yes, you have said so many times before, however , you know that research is nothing if it is not accompanied by experience in the field- would you want a surgeon treating you in the knowledge that he had never seen blood before?''

there was silence- a pause in which I thought for a moment that she had finally dropped the issue. an issue that had developed as soon as my aunt had realised my choice of courses required field ttrips. I was taking a history degree and cultural studies I was twenty, nearly, and I had never left my postcode. until university.

now I was here I wasn't going to waste the opportunity to explore the world- or at least the country. baby steps after all…

true, I did miss home and of course Aunt Mina too… however, I didn't miss the smother tactics my aunt employed.

When the hint of compassion came into her voice I always knew it was a sign I had strayed from the fated path.

''what on earth is your point, primrose?''

I had to tense so as not to let out the exhausted sigh I needed to expel; we had been on this topic for 45 minutes already. and I couldn't see the point in it- I was going on the damn field trip; I was nearly 20 and I needed a break.

it was in two days and I had already paid out of my savings.

my mind wandered to a reflection… silver eyes burned in my mind until I shook them away.

I had to be focused to get past my aunts debating vigour.

I was an adult in the eyes of the law, and I had been able to pay for myself, therefore, i had the right and free bloody will to go.

''my point, dear aunt, is that unless I can experience life I will never be alive; do you understand what I am trying to say aunt Mina?''

I had resorted to appealing to her compassion.

in hindsight I knew it wouldn't work.

''its utter nonsense- I have told you as much about these isles as any acclaimed historian would.'' I noted the humility in her argument. '' tell me why do you need to go to Carlisle? you could ask them to film it - you know how your nerves can be my dear.''

Her words were smothered in concern- an excellent sign that my aunt had no other leg to stand on in this discussion.

She often brought my 'nerves' as she archaically named them into inspection when I was becoming unruly. In my aunt Mina's eyes I was a child to be moulded into a respectable lady.

I couldn't remember ever being my own person - I was on my aunts puppet strings and I needed to cut loose.

''again, aunt, I have told you that we are studying the Jacobite rebellion-''

with that opening she cut me off outraged.

'' the Jacobite's?! how many stories and lessons did I give you on the matter? don't tell me you never listened; planning to get by on looks alone, are we?''

that was a particularly pointed remark from her. it was probably no secret to anyone who met me that I wasn't confident in my looks; I wore loose clothes to hide my body and kept my hair down so I could use it as a privacy screen. a little mad, perhaps, but show me a teen who isn't.

'' Aunt, you know I read and learned everything I could from you - but I have to do this. if I am to ever become a journalist then I will have to travel and meet new people. thank you for your concern.''

that last bit may have sounded harsh but I had played this game for too long.

''really, primrose Erikson. I have taught you better than to speak to an adult like that.'' she huffed and it was as if she were fanning the furnace in my chest.

''Aunt Mina.'' I waited

''yes, primrose?'' she replied contemptuously

'' I am also an adult- I will be 20 soon and I will face the consequences of my actions - which in this case would be a passing grade. I appreciate you and all you do but I can not be silent and allow someone else to make my choices anymore- I am a woman.'' with my speech of liberation over I waited anxiously for her reaction.

I was beyond relieved that she was in half an hour away in Formby- not far from Liverpool, but I could use the head start.

''very well, primrose.'' her voice was stiff with the restrained frustration I had often witnessed and been the cause of.

'' if that's what you have decided then so be it. I shall see you on your 20th as planned- good day Primrose.''

''good day, aunt-'' she hung up so I didn't bother uttering her name to the dial tone.

I stared at the phone in my hand and wished for telepathy so I could just understand what must run through people's heads when they act like that.

with a sigh and a head shake I stood from my bench. I called it my bench because no one else seemed to be there when I went; since the beginning of university it was just me. well it had been like that since school began.

I was always the loner who had imaginary friends -though of course I can't remember them. But I remembered the names they called me in the playground…

'orphan

no Primrose. you can't go back there again just go and pack.

with a deep breath I collected my bags of shopping from my feet - today being my free day I decided to leave the shopping aspect of the trip until last.

today had been clothes and clothes shopping wasn't my ideal way to spend the day. but nevertheless I had done it-from new walking boots to a comfy over sized purple fleece to keep the chill off ( and perhaps to hide in).

I had left most of my winter things at Aunt Mina's during break and march was as fresh as a freezer. No way I was going to the border in the thin jumpers I possessed-they didn't leave much to the imagination.

as I reached the top of Bold street I thought of sitting and sketching, then I carried on past the bombed out church. As usual.

Such a coward...

I still hadn't sketched that church despite the innumerable times I had thought of doing it.

Passing it's strange atmosphere of loss and hope my mind drifted to my parents.

I remembered so little of them. Sometimes I wandered if I had ever known them. We were in an accident… I didn't remember a lot from before I was seven because of it.

my aunt's prerogative was to prepare me for life- her knowledge spanned many topics. And she endeavoured to drill them into me; especially her 'life lessons'. Sometimes I thought myself to be my aunt's shadow- a hollow thing that paled to the original.

And yet, in that stifled home I somehow managed to get a few moments to myself in which I flew.

My aunt for all her flaws had insisted on my being a capable equestrian. Which meant she kept a horse for me at a local stable. And in every free moment I ran to my steed; Franklin.

Together we roamed the dunes searching for monsters and pranced through the forest with my fairy friends- the strange and lovely world of childhood.

but since Franklin died I… i didn't ride anymore.

I was quite a Jack of all trades but master of none sort. I liked to learn that was something I hated and loved about myself- I wanted to learn everything I could about all these topics but when they are all essentially homework well it's a child's nature to reject the regimental tyranny from their guardian.

that's not to say my Aunt didn't have her good points; she could do nearly anything and in reaction I developed a premature internal conflict within; to obey and learn or rebel. by seventeen I managed to say no more.

I stopped every pursuit that held an ambivalence in my mind. But after franklin died I had no photographs- my aunt didn't like them; never questioned and so never explained.

but franklin was my friend.

I drew in secret for fear of her judgment and I rebelled by setting my course for a life of liberal press and free roam.

I missed my chestnut boy but I had that many drawings of him; I could see him everywhere.

And not just him…

I kept my eyes on the pavement, as I always did, so as not to see her.

But with aunt Mina's harsh slight fresh in my brain, I itched to take a glimpse.

I stopped beside one of the shop windows. And before my mind thought better of it I looked up. In the low light the glass had become a perfect reflection of the world – aside from one thing.

my height, my build-my reflection, yet she had a power emanating forth which I certainly did not possess. To me she was an intimidating spectre that lurked on the edges of my world. And though I always ran from her I felt confident enough to look into her eyes.

Hers were silver the glaring difference between us- my reflection; who was she?

Others couldn't seem to notice- they wouldn't bat an eye at her whilst they stared at me being openly 'vain' .

I looked away soon enough and continued walking with my head down.

I had never been able to escape my strange twin – not since I could remember at least. But then the crash could have taken those answers from me as it had my parents.

TK

I soon reached Catherine street and went into the Georgian house which I shared with five other people. I climbed the stairs quickly with my shopping hoping I wouldn't be caught by anyone.

''so you spent your free day shopping?'' Barbara asked stepping out from her 1st floor bedroom. I inwardly cringed; she was like the fricken police when it came to knowing your business.

''just bought a few necessities for the trip…'' I answered quietly not really wanting to engage.

''oh, yeah? like what? lingerie?'' before I answered she spat out a wicked laugh. ''what was I thinking?! who would want to see you in lingerie? - nobody.''

''yes, nice to see you too Barbara.''

I was tired and couldn't be bothered with the fight.

so I carried on up the next flight of stairs to reach my room.

''Bobby's coming over - so don't even think of coming back down!'' she barked up at me.

not even if you paid me. I wanted to shout back at her but I didn't. instead the fool I am I partially obsessed over that regret for a solid two hours in the relative safety of my domain.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard Barbara's footsteps retreated back into her room punctuated by the slam of her door.

if bobby's coming over then staying in my room would probably be best….

Bobby, Barbara's beau, was one weird character. the two were insatiable nymphomaniacs; if I did not run into 'the obstacle' that was their scenes of affection -then it wasn't a weekday. unfortunately, Bobby and Barbara shared a history class with me and Bobby also lurked in my media classes; I couldn't escape.

he in particular seemed to be everywhere I went, and it was an anxiety landmine. sat in the library studying I could just look around and there he was; he always knew when I was looking too… he wasn't openly attacking me but- to me- his snake eyed stare was a form of harassment.

And he always managed to find me.

at least I had been exiled by Barbara so I had no reason to go down.

I almost skipped over to the mini fridge and pulled out a sandwich I had prepared earlier. and so with great relief I began organising my necessities for the trip