Fairy Lights // December (1/2)

In a little street just off the main road down from the train station, just a bike ride away from that lonely florist without any customers, sits a two story apartment building that doesn't look at that spectacular from the front view. Square and with stooping shoulders and a flat topped roof.

One day, one of the inhabitants of this building block decided it was time to decorate her door for the incoming season:

The first thing she noticed was that the door hinges made a noise.

'That's a first', she had instantly thought, wiping down her hands on her pristine white chef's apron that covered her well-worn overalls and tapping on the metal hinges with her nails. Nothing gave way, nothing flaked off.

She moved her fingers away and proceeded to open and close the door a few more times.

'There's that noise again...'

It was subtle, but now that Sunny had heard it, she couldn't unhear it and she lent over her emergency tool kit - a present from her parents when she had set out on her own.

'Though... is this really setting out on one's own?' she had wondered time and time again. It wasn't thought she was out setting the world on fire, she was just living away from home.

'About a plane ride's worth away...' she mulled. Her parents had decided to move to the US in the year before, when she had put her foot down in an effort not to.

She had a better idea:

"Why can't I attend Haesbich?"

Her father's brow had creased at this, lulled into silence, willing his mind to play catch up as to why that name had sounded familiar. And then it dawned on him, "the art school? You want to attend an art school and live dorms?"

He couldn't find the surprise in his voice, he had finally placed the small arts school in a conversation a year or so ago, as they browse through acceptance letters.

He hadn't remembered applying and assumed his wife had put in a good word - or had she? He now looked down at his youngest child with a new feeling burning in his chest... amazement? How long had she known the family move was in the works.

Sunny meet his gaze square on, "I don't mind. I'll make do..." and then her voice faulted a little, "I'll get a part-time job maybe, I'll make it fair on my end too."

Her father choose now to interrupt her, "Sunny... if this is want you want, I won't stand in your way," he said. "And if this is your dream, I want you devoted to it alone - no part-time job, no distraction..."

'And no boys.' They both thought - though one's inner voice was slightly more gruffer, scornful and ever-so-slightly scared about releasing a teenage girl, unsupervised into the world. Even if that world was a well regarded arts school

And the other inner-voice? That was just plainly relived, (but nows not the time for that.)

Her mother was a harder sell but conceded to group think: Sunny was about to enter her first year of high school - probably the worst time to try and learn a new language and another country's set of rules and customs.

The worrier that she was though, she spent the next two months in a buying frenzy, from sleeping bags to candles to bulk supplies of her daughter's favorite imported body wash.

'... my roommates are going to think I'm weird' Sunny had thought instantly.

That however was a surprise she didn't even foresee.

They had taken the turn off the main highway and towards the train station and parked directly across from the large, cream white building.

'Are they going to wait for the movers?'

And then a set of keys appeared, dangled from her father's fingers. He jangled them to get her attention, though he already had it and Sunny interned shut down her Nintendo DS.

"What's this?" she asked, reaching out but her father had pulled the keys a little ways away, "don't tell me you're leaving me the car?"

Her mother interjected at this, "goodness no! Plus, you won't need a car, everything is in walking distance as far as I can tell."

"Yes," her father confirmed, "plus we passed by a bike rental outlet a street away. No, Sunny... this... this is a key to your independence."

Sunny couldn't stop the incredulous look from flashing on her face, she was always the respectful child but her father was just talking gibberish now.

"It's room 201," and then he pointed.

And suddenly everything feel into place, the gears switched on in her head and she felt a grin split open her face. She reached out to hug her parents but was instantly slingshot back by the seat belt.

Her trembling fingers worked the release button and then she just launched herself into her parent's awaiting arms.

"Thank you," she said, her voice shaky from tears. "I can't believe you trust me this much... I get to have my own kitchen and workspace."

Her mother caressed the side's of her beaming daughter's cheeks, "just a small one but it'll be private. Yours alone."

---

It had been a year since then but the memory of that moment still made her ache, at her loneliest times she always remembered the way those embracing arms felt: Loving and caring... and trusting.

They had imparted a great amount of trust in her, which made was why she was being stubborn now.