* 20 years later *
I tried to make my way through the crowd without bumping into anyone. The sound of my heels echoed slightly in the massive corridor though the noises of the city coming from outside by the doors wide opened, was covering everything else. I wanted to get out; I needed to reach the door quickly; I was starting to suffocate there.
After what seemed to be hours, I finally walked out of the massive building and looked around me, amazed. For the first time in my life I was in London and this city was more impressive than I thought. It has nothing to do with any cities I had been to. Hundreds of people were walking hastily toward a destination that was unknown of everyone else. All were different yet so similar at the same time; all were mysterious and intriguing.
I took a sheet of paper out of my jacket and read quickly the information I hastily wrote down a few hours ago. I ambled along the sidewalk in front of the building, looking for the bus stop. I didn’t know how long I waited for it but I didn’t care; I was looking around me, utterly mesmerized by London. I couldn’t wait to begin a new life here. I decided to leave Ireland to come here where I knew I would find anything I needed. And all I needed right now was to find my brother.
I have been waiting too long; I have been alone too long. I needed to have him back, to be with him, to get to know him. We’ve been apart for too long.
The bus finally arrived and I stepped in; I went upstairs and sat down, looking excitedly through the window at the streets. The bust started off and began to make his usual way through the city’s streets. It stopped a few minutes later and more people got in. I heard footsteps stepping upstairs and soon afterwards, a little boy ran along the hallway. He sat down on the seat in front of mine and turned around to look behind me.
But as he turned around, I froze. His features were so familiar; his eyes were like the ones I had last seen years ago. He was looking exactly like Niall; he had the same brown hair and the same nose. It was like I had in front of me my brother; I barely remembered Niall as we only were four when we last saw.
“Josh Scott Horan!” an exasperated voice yelled behind me, making me jump.
“Yes mummy?” the little boy replied, a smile on his face as he looked up at the woman walking toward him.
“Don’t run away like that! How many times do I have to tell you that?” she sighed, sitting down beside him.
Josh Scott Horan?