Mrs. Stratton woke up early the اگلے morning. She had been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about her fight with Una.
She hadn't meant to upset her daughter. She had only wanted to make sure Una had a stable, secure future, to make sure Una did what was best for herself. Una had ambition and confidence, and Mrs. Stratton admired that. But, Mrs. Stratton thought, Una was too young to see how the real world worked. She still lived with her head in the clouds. Mrs. Stratton couldn't let her daughter reach for something unattainable only to come crashing down and get hurt.
Mrs. Stratton made up her mind. She would fix Una's favourite breakfast, and apologize for fighting with her and upsetting her. She would then start their conversation again, and explain to Una exactly why college was so important. She would be very gentle and hopefully do this without upsetting her, and Una would understand.
So about an گھنٹہ later, Mrs. Stratton came back upstairs and gently rapped on Una's door. "Una? Honey, I made waffles. Your favourite."
No answer. "Una? Are آپ up?" She had to still be in her room. Mrs. Stratton hadn't heard any doors opening یا the شاور running. It was odd for Una not to be woken up سے طرف کی the smell of her favourite waffles, though....
She cracked the door open. "Una?"
Nothing. Una's بستر was empty, the star-patterned covers oddly neat as if she hadn't even slept on them. Posters of فلمیں and movie stars covered the walls, and film کتابیں were jammed into the bookcase. The closet was stuffed to overflowing with clothes in bold colours, many of them covered in sequins یا glitter, یا made of faux فر, سمور یا shimmery fabrics. Almost everything looked just how it normally did. But Una's favourite picture of her father, always proudly displayed front-and-centre on one of the walls, had been taken down.
"Una!" Mrs. Stratton felt a wave of terror. She glanced up and down the hallway wildly, as if hoping to see Una coming back from one of the other rooms. "Una, where are you? Come out here right now, young lady!"
No answer. Una couldn't be in one of the other rooms, anyway. The house wasn't big and Mrs. Stratton would have seen یا heard her.
Just in case she might be wrong, praying she might somehow be wrong, Mrs. Stratton flung open the bathroom door. Una wasn't in there either, of course. But her toothbrush was gone.
Mrs. Stratton flew down the stairs, ice gripping at her دل now, and saw what she had dreaded seeing. In the front hall, اگلے to the doorway, Una's light-up starry sneakers were also nowhere to be seen.
Mrs. Stratton's knees went weak and she collapsed onto the sofa. Una was gone.
The bus station was eerily still at this گھنٹہ of the morning, just a few other people on the platform. Una's hair whipped around her in the chilly early morning air. She shivered and pulled her fluffy purple جیکٹ closer around her.
Soon the bus would arrive, and she would begin her trip to Hollywood. She wished her father was here to see her off. She had always thought she'd have his comfort and encouragement when she began her Hollywood journey.
Una squeezed her small travel bag, where her father's picture was stored with her few essentials. "Wish me luck, Father," she whispered. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, and angrily blinked them away. She was not going to cry on a strange bus terminal in front of people she didn't know when she was about to begin her journey that would make her dreams come true.
This was what she had always wanted, ever since she was a little girl. Her father would be happy for her if he were here now; she didn't need to care about what her mother had said. Her mother didn't understand. So why did she feel so lost now? Why couldn't she be happy?
She hadn't meant to upset her daughter. She had only wanted to make sure Una had a stable, secure future, to make sure Una did what was best for herself. Una had ambition and confidence, and Mrs. Stratton admired that. But, Mrs. Stratton thought, Una was too young to see how the real world worked. She still lived with her head in the clouds. Mrs. Stratton couldn't let her daughter reach for something unattainable only to come crashing down and get hurt.
Mrs. Stratton made up her mind. She would fix Una's favourite breakfast, and apologize for fighting with her and upsetting her. She would then start their conversation again, and explain to Una exactly why college was so important. She would be very gentle and hopefully do this without upsetting her, and Una would understand.
So about an گھنٹہ later, Mrs. Stratton came back upstairs and gently rapped on Una's door. "Una? Honey, I made waffles. Your favourite."
No answer. "Una? Are آپ up?" She had to still be in her room. Mrs. Stratton hadn't heard any doors opening یا the شاور running. It was odd for Una not to be woken up سے طرف کی the smell of her favourite waffles, though....
She cracked the door open. "Una?"
Nothing. Una's بستر was empty, the star-patterned covers oddly neat as if she hadn't even slept on them. Posters of فلمیں and movie stars covered the walls, and film کتابیں were jammed into the bookcase. The closet was stuffed to overflowing with clothes in bold colours, many of them covered in sequins یا glitter, یا made of faux فر, سمور یا shimmery fabrics. Almost everything looked just how it normally did. But Una's favourite picture of her father, always proudly displayed front-and-centre on one of the walls, had been taken down.
"Una!" Mrs. Stratton felt a wave of terror. She glanced up and down the hallway wildly, as if hoping to see Una coming back from one of the other rooms. "Una, where are you? Come out here right now, young lady!"
No answer. Una couldn't be in one of the other rooms, anyway. The house wasn't big and Mrs. Stratton would have seen یا heard her.
Just in case she might be wrong, praying she might somehow be wrong, Mrs. Stratton flung open the bathroom door. Una wasn't in there either, of course. But her toothbrush was gone.
Mrs. Stratton flew down the stairs, ice gripping at her دل now, and saw what she had dreaded seeing. In the front hall, اگلے to the doorway, Una's light-up starry sneakers were also nowhere to be seen.
Mrs. Stratton's knees went weak and she collapsed onto the sofa. Una was gone.
The bus station was eerily still at this گھنٹہ of the morning, just a few other people on the platform. Una's hair whipped around her in the chilly early morning air. She shivered and pulled her fluffy purple جیکٹ closer around her.
Soon the bus would arrive, and she would begin her trip to Hollywood. She wished her father was here to see her off. She had always thought she'd have his comfort and encouragement when she began her Hollywood journey.
Una squeezed her small travel bag, where her father's picture was stored with her few essentials. "Wish me luck, Father," she whispered. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, and angrily blinked them away. She was not going to cry on a strange bus terminal in front of people she didn't know when she was about to begin her journey that would make her dreams come true.
This was what she had always wanted, ever since she was a little girl. Her father would be happy for her if he were here now; she didn't need to care about what her mother had said. Her mother didn't understand. So why did she feel so lost now? Why couldn't she be happy?