Better Left Untold.

This is a story better left untold. This is a story, of the oldest woman alive.
With the appearance of a twenty one year old she has the whole world, or atleast london where she lives, fooled that she is young Newspaper journalist Faye Harret.
She is not Faye, She is not twenty one,
She is something else.

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11. Chapter Nine- New Story, old friends.

I sighed, running my fingers through my now bleach blone hair, pulling it into a messy bun. I pulled out my phone leaning back into the uncomfortable plane seat, scrolling through the nesfeeds. 

A building has blown up only an hour earlier the building i used to reside in. 

Yes i had blown it up, i was tired of this life, Faye was boring. Mostly i decided to move so that i would no longer have the thought of Andy, or Niall. Sadly, they where all that crossed my heartbroken mind.

My new name was Clare Thom. I was seventeen, going into grade eleven. It wasnt hard to pretend to be seventeen. They younger i began as, the longer i could stay.

The flight attendant instructed me to shut off my phone and i did so. I shut my eyes, and focused on the sounds. 

" Mom, im scared, we dont know anyone in america and what if they hate me?" A girl about thirteen mumbled to her mother. " Sweety it will be fine, kids at jackson high will love you." Her mother rang back.

Jackson High. That sounds like a good option for school. 

Orlando, better be ready for me.

 

I stepped out of the airport, shades on, ready to rock this town. I hailed a cab and instructed him to the house i owned from last time i lived in the usa. That wasforty years ago, so i hope the house is in good condition.I had a few people work there, just to keep it in place. Im even going with the same last name as last time, as to have family connections During the half hour taxi ride i manged to call and get myself into that high school, and i found out it was only a ten minute walk away.  The driver constantly shot me a smile, driving. There was something about him, i didnt trust him, he was shaky and i did not like it.

I stepped out, receiving my two suitcases from the trunk on my own. The driver sped away, with no attention to blowing smoke in my face. I turned to face my old three story home. It looked quite good for an old home. It was larger than i remebered.

I stepped up to the large double doors, and rang the doorbell as to cause no commotion. " Hello?" A cute older voice rang through. "Maria!" I yelled, as she opened the door. I hugged the woman who seemed very, very shocked. " You are Ms Thoms daughter!" she paused, obviously recognizing me. " Your resemblance to your mother is, striking." she laughed, taking my bags.

I never spent much time here forty years ago.I ran an orphanage so i was often away.

Maria showed me around the large famillar house and i nodded, as she gestured to things my " mother" used to do, and keep around here.

She pulled me into the master bedroom, immediatley throwing my clothing into the closet. I smiled, sitting on the comfortable bed. I missed this bed. Literally custom made, feathers. 'Perfect." i breathed out taking in all the famillar memories.

My eyes shot open, immediately landing on the beautiful painting. The one i had kept with me all these years. The self portrait of Anton. I shot up, almost sprinting through the wall. I closed my eyes, running my fingers along the fine painted face of his. " That was your mothers favorite picture, out of every one." Maria gleamed up at me. " SHe would sit there and stare at him, i wonder who he was, he seems like hes from a different time."  she smiled, grasping my hand.

" Maybe a friend from a past life." i mumbled out, running my cold fingertips against the painted jawline. I missed Anton.

I missed Anton, Carson, Andy, and even Niall. I needed more girl friends. Maybe that girl from the plane.

She was so vunerable, fragile sounding, i needed to protect her.

Maria tore my from my thoughts. " Just think Clare Dear, School starts next week!" She smiled, her brown eyes gleaming.

Im excited to start school, wow, im not doing a good job at being a teenager am i.

Maria prepared dinner, setting to places at the large, empty table. " So Maria, my mum told me you had worked here like ten years after she bought the house, what have you done since then?" i made conversation , twirling the spahghetti i couldn't eat around my fork.

" Well, i've worked here since then obviously, and i cant really afford to quit. I love it here, there isn't much work. And it puts food on the table at home." She smiled. " How many kids do you have?" i questioned, considering something. " Three, and my husband! Its nice, we have a small cozy home, and thats all we need." She smiled, continuing to pile food into her mouth.

" Why dont you move in here?" I suggested, and her mouth dropped. " I could never-" I cut her off. " No im serious! You and your family can live in the left wing! theres like two bathrooms and five bedrooms just on that floor! Ill take the top floor and we share the middle! i would love that!" I got up grabbing my phone. " Go home, pack your things, leave the furniture though." i smile. 

She hesitated then grabbed her purse, with a large smile on her face.

I remeber how lonley i was in this house, Now that would all change.

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