Leaving Home

There were still a few hours before midday. For once in his life, Felix didn't grumble about helping his mother with the household chores. Instead, he found that it served as a useful distraction from the churning feeling he had deep down in his stomach. He pushed his thoughts to one side as he worked. Perhaps it helped him to know that this would be the last time he fed the chickens, gathered wood, brought water from the well, swept the yard or fixed the fences. It also occured to him that he had slept for the last time in his own snug bed, woken for the last time to the sound of his mother's soothing singing and eaten his last meal in that cosy, comfy kitchen. Suddenly, Felix felt slightly queasy and out of breath. His mouth was dry, but his eyes were wet. He swallowed hard, twice, and leant against the fence, looking back towards the house, the home that he loved. He wondered what lay in store for him.
"Felix!" The sound cut through the air, bringing Felix back to earth in an instant. He hurried towards the house and his mother's voice.
He entered the kitchen once more. His mother had placed a large bag on the table.
"I thought you might need a few things," she said. Her voice sounded strange, as if she were far away. Felix's eyes widened as he stared at the bag and the importance of the day's events really began to sink in. He cupped his hands around his face, took another deep breath and turned with a forced grin towards his mother.
"Like what?" He responded. His own voice also seemed different now. He glanced over the things his mother had gathered together onto the table. She began to place them into the bag.
"Well, a jar of my blackberry jam, for a start. I know how much you like it," Felix's mother rubbed the jar and placed it into the bag. "There's that little blanket, in case you need it, and a candle stub. I've put a few things in already!" She continued to pack assorted items into the bag. Felix stood and watched. He didn't trust his own voice any more. Soon the bag was full and the table was empty. It was time to go.