i believe in yesterday ☽ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐭𝐞𝐧

america was less bright and fun then molly had expected. even hollywood was dark and gloomy that day, as if the earth knew what happened to her mother.

she was put on one of eduardo's private jets when he called to tell them to. the flight was was an excruciatingly long eleven hours. she boarded around twelve and arrived at eleven that night.

the airport was empty and quiet, much like her. none of the shops were occupied by the usual chattery folks with boarding their plane on their mind.

the terminals were mostly empty.

she was put on the plane with her uncle gregory who she'd only met twice in her life. he was her mother's older brother. he stayed quiet for most of the flight.

when he saw molly's hands shaking after she took a drink of water, he moved to sit in front of her.

"i knew your father," he blurted out, not knowing how to calm or console her. after a moment of her looking at him blankly, he said, "he was actually my best mate. i'm the one who introduced your mother to him..."

molly nodded somberly.

he cleared his throat. "there was this one time when your mom crashed her bike. she was only seven or eight, and i was twelve," he said. "she hurt her leg pretty badly, but i told her everything would be okay. i'm sure she'll be okay now, too."

molly sighed and closed her window as it began getting dark. "thanks," she muttered.

he smiled kindly at her and closed his window too. "going to sleep?" he asked.

she nodded and closed her burning eyes— burning from the tears threatening to spill out onto her cheeks. she was determined not to cry, telling herself not to be a cry-baby because nothing was for sure yet.

after they landed, she still swore to herself she wouldn't cry. not for any reason. it is what it is, she vowed.

"miss mayweather, mister giovanin," a booming, deep voice erupted when molly was looking for the person who was supposed to pick them up at the terminal.

her uncle nodded and gave the man his backpack. molly did the same with hers. she barely packed enough things to keep her, but she figured she didn't need much.

"right this way. mary giovanin is in the hospital at the moment," the man opened the door to the suv parked by the curb.

the sun wasn't shining, the birds weren't chirping. the plain sounds of traffic filled the empty air. they got in the car, hurriedly closing the door behind them.

                                          *

the hospital was fairly quiet the day molly visited her mother.

it was almost a week after the accident, and molly came to terms with the situation. she knocked three times and entered the hospital room.

"oh, miss mayweather," a nurse called. "she's doing rather good today,"

molly walked over to the bedside and looked at her mother. she was in a coma. asleep and breathing, but unconscious. her mother was moved from an american hospital back to a liverpool one.

"great," she replied after the nurse gave her a stern look.

her mother was unmistakably beautiful, much like her. but unfortunately, the age caught up with her. she looked almost exactly like molly when she was younger. many times, people told her she looked much like her mother. they both had the same freckles. same cheekbones. the only thing dissimilar was their eyes. molly's eyes were hazel, like her father's. her mother's were brown.