chapter 5: The Road To Florida
830 Words
Ella's pov
I woke up before my alarm.
For a moment I just lay there staring at the ceiling of my room — the same ceiling I had stared at for as long as I could remember. The small c***k near the window that dad always said he would fix. The faded glow stars I had stuck up there when I was nine that nobody ever took down.
Today was the day.
I got up quietly and moved through the house slowly. Every room felt different this morning. Heavier. Like the walls already knew.
I saved the garden for last.
I stepped outside into the cool morning air and stood at the edge of mom's garden. The flowers she had planted were still growing — stubborn and beautiful, refusing to stop just because she was gone. I crouched down and touched one of the petals gently.
"Mom," I said softly. "I'm leaving today. Moving to a new place."
The garden was quiet.
"I don't really want to go. But dad needs this. And I think maybe — maybe you would have wanted us to try."
I stayed there for a moment longer.
"Wish me luck," I whispered.
The morning breeze moved through the flowers gently.
I chose to believe it was her answer.
I picked one small flower and slipped it into my pocket.
Something to carry with me.
When I turned around Alex was standing at the garden gate.
I don't know how long he had been there.
He was already in his jacket, hands in his pockets, watching me with that expression I could never fully read. Quiet. Steady. Present.
"You came," I said.
"Did you really think I wouldn't?" he said simply.
I didn't answer because we both already knew.
Of course he came. He always came.
Dad was already up loading boxes when we came back inside.
Alex didn't say much. He just rolled up his sleeves and started helping — carrying boxes, loading the car, moving things without being asked. That was Alex. He never needed instructions. He just showed up and did what needed to be done.
Dad watched him for a moment then caught my eye and smiled.
I looked away quickly.
The three of us worked quietly together until the car was full and the house was empty of everything that made it ours.
Dad went to do one final check inside.
Alex and I stood by the car alone.
The morning was still and soft around us.
"So," I said.
"So," he said back.
I laughed a little even though nothing was funny.
He opened his arms and I walked into them without hesitating. His hug was the same as it had always been — solid and certain, like he was made to be someone's safe place.
But this time he held on longer.
And so did I.
"Don't forget to eat properly," he murmured into my hair.
"Don't forget to sleep," I said against his shoulder.
"Text me when you arrive."
"I will."
"Ella."
"Alex."
He pulled back and looked at me. Really looked at me. Like he was memorising every detail.
"Stay safe," he said quietly. "Please."
Something in his voice made my chest hurt.
"I will," I whispered.
Dad appeared at the front door.
"Ready?"
I looked at Alex one more time.
He nodded once. Small. Encouraging.
I nodded back.
And I got in the car.
We were on the road by nine.
I watched my neighbourhood disappear through the window — the corner store, the park, the bench where Alex and I had sat a hundred times. Everything shrinking smaller and smaller until it was gone.
I turned around once.
Alex was still standing on the pavement where we had left him. Hands in his pockets. Watching the car until he couldn't anymore.
I faced forward.
Dad reached over without looking and squeezed my hand once.
I squeezed back.
My phone buzzed.
Alex: Always. No matter what.
I held the phone against my chest.
And watched the road take me somewhere new.
We crossed into Florida as the sun was beginning to set.
The light was different here. Warmer. The trees were different. The air was different.
Everything was different.
And then it happened.
The moment we crossed the city line something shifted — subtle and strange, like a frequency only my body could pick up. My heart rate climbed for no reason. The tiny hairs on my arms stood up.
I pressed my hand to my chest.
"You okay?" dad asked.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Just tired."
But I wasn't tired.
I was something else entirely. Something I didn't have a name for yet.
I looked out at the darkening Florida skyline and felt it again.
That pull. That strange impossible pull toward something I couldn't see.
I didn't know what it meant.
I didn't know that somewhere in this city someone had just felt it too.
I didn't know that everything was about to begin.
- Writer
