Chapter 13

Nostalgia Just as we stepped inside the house, I heard Karl whisper from beside me, 'Home sweet home." It was easy to take note of the adoration in his voice. He was my cousin but, to me, he was the best brother I could ever ask for. When my aunt, after years of solitude, and a seemingly never-ending mourning over the loss of her beloved husband, passed away in a car accident, my dad had done everything he could, the fastest he could, in order to become his legal guardian. The day he arrived, the sky had been of a stormy gray and raining cats and dogs. Since he had been drenched from head to toe because of his little, slow, insouciant-like walk from the car to the house, it was difficult to say whether there were tears or not among the droplets of water trickling down his face. His green eyes were sad though; everybody could see that, even little me – I was five at the time, he was ten. As his blond locks sticking to his grim face and his lifeless pools of green had come into sight