Chapter 1: My Name is Boston Alcott

I stared outside the window as the car bounced gently along. 

"We're almost there." The driver told me. I'd already forgotten his name. Six hours trapped in a car with only one other person, most people would try their best to strike up a conversation. But

A.) I hate people. and

B.) I wasn't in the mood to talk.

So I just ignored the driver and watched the rain as it pounded against the outside of my passenger side window. I stared at the water droplets running down the glass like ants in a race. The clouds were black and ominous, thunder roared in the distance...I couldn't help but think back to my childhood. Thunder and lightning have never scared me; I've always found them both soothing. During storms just like this, I would lie down on my mother's lap near the fireplace and we would talk about how the angels were bowling. Everytime they got a strike, a clap of thunder would sound.

Mother...Father... My heart started to ache at just the thought of them. Everything came back in a rush. Last month, the accident...and that drunkard that took the lives of two innocent people. I quickly swept away those thoughts and bit the inside of my mouth to keep the tears from coming.

The vehicle eased to a gentle stop.

"...We're here." The driver said. I could hear the relief in his voice; he was finally able to escape the silence that came with my company. "I think I have an umbrealla in the trunk. Just wait here a moment." I nodded dismissively as he pushed open his door and slid out the driver's seat. After a moment, he came around the car and gently knocked on my window. As I stepped outside the car, not a single drop of rain touched my person before the driver opened a black umbrella over my head. I shivered against the cold November air. 

"Oh, here." The driver gently placed the umbrella in my hand before removing his heavy coat and wrapping it around my shoulders. Perhaps it was the oversized coat or way he spoke with such a soft voice...but this was the first time I realized this man in my company was only a year or so older than myself. He turned to remove my luggage sitting in the backseat of the car.

"...Thank you." I said. He twitched at the sound of my voice.

"So you can speak!" He laughed, looking over his shoulder to grin at me. I frowned then turned to face the establishment sitting a little ways up at the top of a gravel drive. Standing a magnificent 160-something feet, the Overton Hotel was a comforting sight for someone who'd been sitting in a car for six long hours.

"Shall we?" The driver smiled, a pair of dimples appeared on the apples of his cheeks as he did. Realizing his shirt was soaked through from the rain, I immediately placed the umbrella over both our heads to share. The sight of someone carrying my own luggage seemed distasteful to me, so I traded the umbrealla for them; much to his protest.

With the driver holding the umbrella over our heads and my baggage in either hand, we ascended the gravel drive.

And THUS the story begins!!! Dun dun dunn!!!! >:D