Playing His Own Games | ✔︎

chapter two | homesickness

*•*•*•*
"And I shall seek you endlessly, for
I am a moth, and you're my flame.

Knowing that I'll burn at your touch
I return, for you're a fire; untamed."
*•*•*•*

Carrie

I NEVER HAD ANY intentions on moving from one of the largest cities in the US to Bristol, a place in South West England. Then again, I never had any intention on dating someone so obsessed with me, he would literally leave his family, move counties and buy his own apartment to stay with me.

Bristol, with its sloping, blocky ground, cramped houses and ancient beige buildings, is like another world compared to the city of Chicago, which is encased by skyscrapers and striking architecture overlooking the lakefront shoreline.

"It's up here, Martha," my dad snaps, his long, thin fingers clutching the steering wheel of the silver Mustang tightly; his green eyes, framed by a pair of thick glasses, narrowed. "Stop pestering me all the time. You're making my ears bleed."

"Oh grow up, William!" my mum barks, a dangerous edge to her tone. One that I'm all too familiar with. "If you followed the directions I gave you, we wouldn't be lost."

"We're not lost," my dad growls, his jaw clenched. When my father is wrong, he gets defensive. Really defensive. He's a man who despises being wrong, so he convinces himself he's always right.

"Pull over, William. I'll get the map out," my mother sighs.

"You told me your lost the map!" The level of his voice raises an octave.

Both of my parents are lawyers and it doesn't help that both are adamant that they are always correct. Winning an argument with either one of my parents will happen when Hell freezes over. Normally, I'm excellent at shutting them all out, but after the flight over here and now this car-drive, full of constant bickering and arguing, my patience has thinned out

I cross my ankles over and chew the inside of my cheek, my gaze flickering over to my eleven-year-old sister, Alina. She's sprawled out across two seats, mouth hanging open, the heels of her feet digging into my hip, her body cocooned around a heap of blankets. Even sleeping she looks like the Devil. Damn you should see her when she's awake.

I stuff my earphones in and blast music into my ears at full volume, drowning out the sound of my parents arguing. The road is wet and icy, the wind blowing leaves through the golden circles of light the light posts illuminate against the darkness.

My phone bings and I know who it is before I've even picked it up: My boyfriend, Kane Atkinson. I've hinted it multiple times to end the relationship but he denies anything I say. When we were first dating I was honoured he was so interested in me but his behaviour became more and more obsessive as the months rolled past.

When my parents first announced that we would be officially moving to England, the only positive was that I would be leaving my psycho boyfriend behind me. What I didn't expect was for him to move with us. He exploded when I told him he wasn't coming with us. We'd had our share of arguments like any normal couple, but that one was beyond awful. After telling me he would kill himself if I didn't allow him to go, I finally caved in. I couldn't be responsible for his death. Naturally things have been pretty icy between each other lately and I'm still hoping he will break it off. But right now, I'm about as stuck as a fly in a spiders web.