For Your Eyes Only

Why do I wake up every day and see someone who is broken, hopeless, and shattered? Why is it so hard to get out of bed and get dressed in the morning? Every time I close my eyes, it hurts. I have scars that will never heal. I feel pain that will never go away, and I have memories that will haunt me forever.
But no one knows.
I’m eighteen years old. I moved from Massachusetts in with my aunt in Cheshire, England two years ago when my parents went to jail. I’m an only child. I have no other family. I am alone.
But no one knows.
“Annie, honey, come down for breakfast! I made pancakes!” Aunt Kathy called. I opened the bathroom door and headed down the old oak staircase to the kitchen, hands twisting a hair elastic around my dark brown mop of morning hair. I was already dressed in a pair of light blue skinnies and a white top with lace trim around the neckline and hem. I wore my favorite white rose studs in my ears along with my small diamonds. As always, I wore my purity ring on my left ring-finger and my silver necklace with one glass diamond in the center and a small one on the side.
“Mmm, they smell amazing, Auntie!” I replied, reaching for a fork. They tasted amazing too. I slid into the bright red stool that perfectly reflected my chic aunt’s flamboyant style just as she hand me a cup of coffee.
“You look cute. Where are you going today?” she asked. These past weeks she had allowed me to take the money from my weekend job that didn’t go into savings and travel around England, exploring since I was legal now. If I was staying the night somewhere, I’d plan in advance.
“I’m going to take a cab to Holmes Chapel. I heard it’s a beautiful little town.” She nodded and poured herself some coffee, sipping it before responding.
“I have to work late tonight, so I probably won’t be home until around nine,” she said. Aunt Kathy owned a little odds and ends store, and was unmarried and unattached. The two of us lived together in a cute little ‘flat’, as they called it in England, above the shop. She also worked on Thursdays in a local bed and breakfast, as she was today. “Hey, I know you don’t want to drink, but do you want to hit Candy’s with me and Keisha tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Not really... I have to clean up my room... I’m not big into the whole club thing, anyway,” I replied. She rolled her eyes and hit me playfully on the shoulder.
“Honestly, Annie, I don’t know why you’re so against it. You need to meet someone!” She exclaimed. She was like the sister I never had in a lot of ways, and sometimes I needed that.
“I have my whole adult life ahead of me, Auntie. The man of my dreams can wait.”
“Whatever you say, kiddo. I gotta go. Have fun in Holmes Chapel today. Don’t get lost!” She grabbed her bag and sunglasses as she headed out the door.
“You know me, I never get lost!” I called after her.
“Riiiiiiiiiiight,” I heard as the door pulled shut. I finished breakfast and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. I picked up my iPhone six and slid it into my back pocket and pulled my tribal-patterned satchel over my shoulder and left the house, taking a taxi to the train station. I could have just taxied all the way there, but I liked riding around on trains.
“Hi, Dave,” I said, climbing into the back seat. “Train station, please.”
“It’s called the tube,” he replied with a grunt.
“Not in America!”
“You’re not in America, Annie.”
“You know you love driving me around,” I quipped with a cheeky grin. The older man only grunted. When I had first met him, I was afraid of him. He was always the taxi that came when I called, but now I looked forward to seeing him every day. He did too, I knew it.
I jumped out and handed him some cash before heading inside the station for a ticket. Soon after, I was sitting in the train car scrolling Instagram on my phone. My friends from back home were in bed right now, but yesterday they went to the beach. There were pictures of my once-best friend and her boyfriend. Oh, I missed them.
“Holmes Chapel!” a voice shouted through the intercom. I jumped up and shouldered my way through the crowded car and jumped to the ground just as the door slid shut. I looked around at the tiny town before me, and immediately spotted a tiny bookstore across the street. A bell rang quietly as I pushed the screen door open and inhaled the sweet smell of leather and paper and dusty books filled with wonderful secrets.
“Hello, may I help you?” asked a soft female voice from the old oak counter a few feet to my left. An older woman with graying brown hair sat with a pen poised in her hand and a warm smile on her face.
“Hello! Would you point me to the poetry section? I’m visiting town and I’d like to find a good book and a good place to read it.” She smiled even wider and rose, walking from around the counter. I followed her through several sections until we reached a large shelf labeled “POETRY”. She pulled out a book titled “Sonnets of Shakespeare” and held it up for my viewing.
“May I recommend this work? I don’t know what Americans read,” she said. I smiled, delighted that she found exactly what I most loved to read.
“I love Shakespeare! I’ll take that one please.” We went back to the counter, and I paid for the precious book which she placed in a pretty paper bag with a blue ribbon on the handle. “Could you point me in the direction of the best place to read… out of doors?” I asked as I headed to the door. I stopped and watched her think.
“Go down past Davis Drive to Carpe Street. There’s a small park across from the red house. There might be some boys playing a spot of football, but there’s a nice shady place under the trees that should suit you. There’s also a café on the other side where you can pick up a coffee.”
“Thanks a million!” I replied, stepping into the warm summer air. I found the park and, sure enough, five boys were out playing soccer. I sat against a large oak tree and slid on my white sunglasses, losing myself in the wonderful words of the greatest poet on earth.
“My love is as a fever longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain appetite to please.”
My thoughts were jolted back to reality by a soccer ball rolling between my feet. I looked up and saw a gorgeous blonde boy jogging over to my tree, smiling apologetically.

Notes

Ok, this is my first time publicizing a fanfiction, so feedback, positive or negative, will be greatly cherished! Also, please correct any colloquialisms I get wrong or any regional things about the U.K. because I'm American :) Hope you like it!