It took for almost seven years to have realized that the people who used to be with me have betrayed me long before I even knew it. That was when I determined to move out of London. Where my entire life has been. I moved to Nigeria, but that was before my sister, Bethany left me penniless. She took all my credit, in which she lied about her career and everything.
The one thing she left me was ten thousand bucks. With that scarce amount of net worth, I moved to Melbourne. There, I made friends with Tony and Robert. There lives have almost been like mine. And their family were as if they are connected with me. There family have always looked bright amongst them, and they always will. The one thing I did not get after spending a entire year in Nigeria penniless, was that my sister, who I always trusted would be such a liar.
After that year, this year has been so optimistic for me. I am looking forward to being a twenty two years old. Kind to think, I have been spending a entire year with my best friend's family. Yet I had no idea what mine would be like, after losing contact with them for two years. I decided it would be time to go back for a visit, just for fun. Well, really there was nothing interesting about them, they were so self-centered and obsessive for money making that they left Bethany and I to survive on our own, but that was ten years ago.
Today I am going to travel to London, see how the discrete family have been up to. The airline ticket took about one out of twenty of my net worth. So it better be worth the wait. I was looking forward to meet them, but nothing was as I suspected. I came home and it was like this; I unlocked our front door, the entire house was empty, with no furniture or symbols of residence. As if the entire time this house was always haunted.
"Dad. I am home," I called walking up the stairs. To my shock, they were not even upstairs. All the beds were gone, the carpet was as clean as new, and all five bedrooms have been desolated. Just as I thought "they must have moved houses without me, and never want me to come back again" there was a small note rolled inside a cork bottle. I opened it, and the letter had a print, it said "Celia's only" on it. Once I unwrapped the note, I realized the handwriting was from my sister's. "Dear Celia," I read as if my voice was drowned by the sound of lawn mowing. "We have decided it would be best if we pass this down to your sister. I know how hard it must have been for your sister to take your salary and slaughtering you, back in Nigeria. That is why, we have decided that it would be all for the best," the note did not intercept there. It was like the other words were worn out.
"Celia, what is the matter with you," at the end of the letter it said. I inference that it was not her handwriting, as if someone else might have found the note and rewrote what was said. Someone like Mel.