Homesick: A TFLC Short

Winchester, England

United Kingdom 

December 2005

During the first month of Aether’s stay in the orphanage, she had a tendency to get homesick very quickly. It was normal; she had lost her parents, after all, only a month back. It was hard to get used to the new place—as nice as the people were and as warm as the place seemed, she refused to accept it as home. For Aether, home was half an hour away. Home was their two-storey house with the sprawling backyard and the brightly-colorer flowers her father planted on the weekends; home was listening to her mother play the piano and have her teach Aether slowly and surely until she was sure she could get it right. Home was having her own bedroom and racing down the stairs to eat with her parents every morning, kiss her father on the cheek before he want to work, and spend time with her mother before she was off to school. 

That was home. 

The orphanage? Not quite. It still intimidated her as much as she refused to admit it; there were more floors and more stairs, more to explore but also more to hide from. There was a garden she could stay in but chose not to because of the kids who would stare, a music room she could reside in but didn’t because the piano reminded her of her mother too much. It was a residence by definition, but not a home—not quite. 

She got homesick. The feeling would strike deep in the late nights when she was sure that everyone else was asleep, roommate included. Red-haired Lysette liked to stay up late and usually Aether would wait until the other was snoozing deeply into the night before she would over her face, bury herself underneath the blanket and let her tears out as quietly as she could. While first being a few hiccups, a few tears here and there, it would eventually escalate to something much more painful, far worse than a few twinges in her chest. Aether couldn’t help it—she cried and cried until her tears ran dry, until her cheeks were blotchy, and her green eyes tired, red. 

It happened quite a few times and went unnoticed. Lysette would notice in the morning that Aether looked like that she hadn’t gotten any sleep, but the latter would shrug it off and say that her allergies were acting up.

And she chose to believe the other girl until one night where Lysette couldn’t sleep as well; she thought she heard muffled, snuffling noises and was convinced that she was just imagining them. That was until she heard her roommate from the other bed sob into her pillow, and that was when she knew that something was wrong. 

Wanting to be quiet, Lysette quietly crept out of bed, shortly glanced at the other and saw that she was facing the wall closer to her. She tiptoed closer, stopping at Aether’s side and feeling herself grow a little more sad as she heard the other’s crying grow a bit louder. This is why you’ve been looking more tired, she concluded in her head; Lysette reached out and hesitated initially, wondering if she should even bother the girl at all—but when Aether dug her face into the pillow and her shoulders quaked more, she tapped her shoulder, spoke quietly. “Hey,” she murmured.

And Aether stiffened immediately at that. Her cries cut off and she tensed, a little more aware of her surroundings now that she knew Lysette was there. No answer. “Hey,” Lysette repeated, trying to sound more gentle, less threatening. That was the last thing that the other needed at the moment. “Are you…do you want to talk things out?”

“It’s fine,” Aether whispered. “it’s f-fine, please just—just sleep.” But Lysette shook her head, again patted the other’s shoulder. Aether relented after a minute, slowly poking her head out and looking at the other. “I’ll be fine,” Aether repeated quietly, looking down at her lap. “I…I just. I g-got homesick, that’s all.”

“Oh.” There was silence again before Lysette sat on the free space, facing Aether. The other looked a little surprised at the other’s action. “Do you…do you want to talk about it? It might help,” she offered, but Aether shook her head, bit her lip. “Really, it might. Talking about it might make it hurt less.”

The other girl closed her eyes. Lysette thought that she would refuse again and was about to apologize, move back to her own bed, but then Aether spoke up in a quiet, tired voice. “I miss my parents. I miss my home. I miss—I miss everything. This orphanage…” she took a shuddery, unsure breath, “…it doesn’t feel like home to me. It really, really doesn’t.” Lysette stayed quiet. “I just want to go back home. But there’s nothing left.” 

“Nothing?” Aether flinched.

“…house fire.”

“Oh, I—I’m sorry, I’m…I’m sorry.” the other reached out, took one of Aether’s hands in her own. Aether blinked and looked at their connected hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that had to happen to you, I…that sucks,” she mumbled. Aether said nothing and Lysette went on awkwardly, cleared her throat. “My parents didn’t—they didn’t experience that, but…I miss mine, too. I do a lot. And crying is fine. I don’t—don’t really judge you for crying, to be honest,” she told her with a small, comforting smile. Aether nodded slowly. “But? I guess I just want to let you know that I’m—that I’m here. You don’t have to hide that you’re crying.”

“I don’t?”

“Of course not, silly. Crying’s normal. You don’t have to hide it.” She offered her another small smile, “And…I’m here for you. Okay?” 

Aether looked at their hands again. Joined together, Lysette holding hers comfortingly as if telling her that it would be fine. That she’d be okay.

(And Aether wanted to be okay.

But the pain was constant, lingering, there.)

“Okay,” Aether agreed. Attempted at a smile of her own, but it ended up looking tired. Lysette caught on and let go of the other’s hand, eventually standing up to move back to her own bed. “…Lysette?”

“Mm?”

Hesitation. “…thank you.” 

Lysette couldn’t help but smile as she sank back into her own bed. “You’re welcome.”