My room was nearly empty. The bed was stripped from there purple polka dotted sheets and large rainbow pillows. The closet, which was normally enclosed with toys and clothes, was immaculate, the hangers neatly pushed into the edge. The floor, I could actually see the floor! The drawers and dressers were emptied out, nothing inside the wooden furniture. Almost all my possessions were already halfway to Point Gate. I had sent them a few days ago so I wouldn't have to lug them during my train ride to my new house.
My new house...Nina was furious on me moving. She yelled at me for wanting to go then yelled at Mrs. Jones for letting me go. Then, just a few days before my departure, she locked herself in her room and hasn't come out since. I was worried about her well being, but I spied Mrs. Jones leaving meals in front of her room and caught a glimpse of Nina's calloused hand sneak the tray inside. I was relieved she was eating, but then worried that she would’ve never got over this.
The first day she locked herself inside, I spent hours knocking on her door, receiving no answer. I was angry at myself for not elaborating on my reasons to go. It was to get to know my mother better, but what if I didn’t?
I was caught in the adrenaline of meeting someone who knew my mysterious mom that I never thought of the consequences. This could just be a prank or a plot for a kidnapping. The Kotobuki’s could’ve been cruel and vicious and having to leave Summermont would be hard.
Nina had thought of all these reasons and yelled at me if they were true. Since then, they swarm around my head and I was unable to get them out. If I was packing, my mind would drift if they just wanted to steal my possessions. When I was giving back my textbooks to the school I would ask myself, 'what if they weren’t going to send me to school and make my live as a maid.'
All these stray thoughts wandered through my head and made me worry, but even with all the risks, I was still keen on going. A chance to see what my family was like. Before Mrs. Jones adopted me, I would always ask Ms. Lockhart, a tall slim woman with long luscious brown locks, how I got here. She would always sigh before saying that a young man dropped me off, with only my name as knowledge.
Could that person be my father? I asked her countless times to describe the night in full detail before she grew aggravated and made me go to sleep. I was only three at the time, but Ms. Lockhart always said I was the curious type and was always poking through other people’s business. Most of the time, it would result in a fight for me being to nosy and they would run away before I could follow.
I cast a longing look at Nina’s door; hoping that it would suddenly slam open and Nina would run at me, her arms spread wide. She would hug my torso and crystal tears of guilt would be pouring down her face as she continuously apologized for her bratty behavior.
No such thing happened.
My longing look quickly contorted into a look of disappointment. Ever since she was born, she was always a brat and needy. It was always, I want this or I want that! She acted as if she was the Queen of Egypt and Mrs. Jones and I were her loyal subjects. The thought made me want to hurl.
I walked down the carpeted stairs, skipping two at a time so it wasn’t long before I wasn’t in the kitchen. Mrs. Jones was doing some errands while Nina was still sulking childishly in her room.
“Nina?” I questioned. On the kitchen stool, dipping chocolate chip cookies into a tall glass of milk was Nina. She seemed surprised to see me, but she quickly masked it as she toppled out of the clunky metal stool and was aiming to go back upstairs.
Before she could escape, I grabbed the back of her large purple sweatshirt and dragged her back to the kitchen stool. I situated myself and Nina so we were facing each other. Now that I got a clear look at her, she looked like she was Frankenstein’s bride.
Her hair was greasy and oily, slicked back in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were idled and droopy, a pinkish ring circled her idled her eyes, along with her button nose. Her plump lips were chapped and dry; a noticeable drool trail was along the corner of her mouth to her chin. It looked like she went to hell and back.
We both stayed in silence. Well, I tried to start the conversation but she didn’t respond and it was back to the awkward silence.
“Err, Nina?” I tried again. No response. She just kept staring at me with dull eyes. It was unnerving actually and soon I was squirming because of her undivided attention. It was weird? Suspicious? Creepy? Yeah, that’s it. It was creepy, undeniably creepy.
“Why?” she whispered. I was momentarily stunned at her sudden question. After all the attempts to explain my reasoning and situation, she hadn’t even said a word. Nina suddenly asking questions out of the blew, especially after locking herself up and remaining silence for a few days was out of character of her.
Nina was a bratty little witch. She complained and teased people just for her pleasure. She was blunt and would insult your intellect if she thought you were dumb. This means she continuously calls me stupid and an idiot on a regular basis. Thought it may not look like it, she was one of the most intelligent people you would meet in her young age of 13, though many people thought she was older since she was just as tall as I was. However, she was arrogant about herself and boldly called people dumb and lazed around with the excuses; geniuses don’t need to do work.
“Why, what?” I questioned, my hands fumbling clumsy in my lamp. She continued to bore her silvery eyes into mine. Her upper lip twitched slightly and a flash of amusement crossed her eyes but as soon as it came, it left. I caught on quickly. There was only reason why she was acting like a lifeless carcass and no, it wasn’t because the world ran out of her food or junk food was banned.
“Look,” I sighed. “I’ve been here ever since you were born. Heck, I was actually there when you were born!” I inwardly shuddered. Bad memories, bad memories.
“Anyway, why are you acting like this? Aren’t you the one who normally slaps me, punches me, trips me, and steals my clothes!” I gave her the evil eye as I referred to earlier this week. “And makes fun of me? You’re normally the lazy pig that’s insanely smart and now you’re looking like you rolled in cow manure and haven’t come out of your room in three days! This isn’t that big! I’ll still call you and send you letters. I’ll visit whenever I can, you know that! So, why are you acting like this?”
Nina was silent during my whole rant. She was completely still as her back was rigged as her arms were stiff and folded across her chest.
“Everyone’s leaving me,” She stated quietly. I blinked in confusion.
“Everyone’s leaving me,” She said again. “Everyone. Mom’s barely talking to me, all my friends haven’t even called me since school ended, and you’re leaving today and dad…”
I felt tears prickled my eyes as I scrambled to Nina and wrapped my arms around her. She was surprised as her hands were limp and hanging on her side like spaghetti noodles.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I mumbled over and over again in her small ear. She slowly comprehended my action and hesitantly wrapped her short but slim arms around my torso.
We didn’t say anything, but our actions were loud enough for words.
We settled down a few minutes late and when I say settle down, I mean that Nina was fed up with the tear stains in her hair that she slapped me and raced back upstairs grumbling about a shower. Mrs. Jones came back from her errands and when she saw Nina out of her room, she threw her arms around it and noisily kissed her forehead. Her face went so red it rivaled a tomato.
Soon it was time for me to go and I found myself in Nina’s position as Mrs. Jones smothered me with sloppy kisses. I gathered all my matching zebra print suit cases which were filled with all my clothes and other necessities that I didn’t ship over to Point Gate.
Mrs. Jones had a large rusty pickup truck. The red body paint was chipped and rust covered most of the surface. The three of us all sat in the front, resting on worn black leather, because the back seat was occupied with most of my belongings.
It was an unnaturally cool afternoon. The blue sky was dotted with large fluffy clouds that hid the ball of fire which we called the sun. Children, adults, and teens were littered on the street like trash, running errands, gossiping, or playing games.
All the windows were up in Mrs. Jones truck, country music blasting through the small speakers. Nina and I stared incredulously at Mrs. Jones as she shrieked the lyrics along the music. I could barely hear once we reached the train station. Mrs. Jones was oblivious to our distress as she continued to sing (quite horribly, I mentally added) outside of the truck. I pitied the poor bystanders whose eardrums were assaulted with Mrs. Jones singing voice.
“The hurtin's all over - all over my body. It started in my heart and it spread all over me. Father time did his part, took the hurt--,” Mrs. Jones kept singing, The Hurtin’s All Over, by Connie Smith while dragging one of my larger suitcases to the station.Nina and I made it so that we were several feet away from her, pretending that we didn't know her.
We all waited at my train’s stop with a foreigner who kept babbling in another language, a family of 7 whose children kept running around, and a young married couple who were snuggling on the bench. I set my suitcases near the large map of the station and made my way to the bench next to the cuddling couple. Mrs. Jones and Nina had already left, giving me the ticket, a twenty dollar bill for some food, and from Mrs. Jones, another bear hug while Nina laughed.
The train pulled up a half hour later. It was large and long scarlet train which had large windows so you could see the seats inside. I gathered all my black and white suitcases and heaved them on board. The train was barren, only a few people were scattered in the large cabins. I half dragged, half carried, all my suitcases into an empty cabin near the end of the train.
The cabin was large, with two long benches on each side and a singled window between them. I set the smallest suitcases on the plush scarlet bench and the larger ones on the carpentered floor. I sat down in the other bench in front of the already filled bench. I propped my elbow near the window and let my cheek rest on the palm of my hand as I idly watched the scenery go by.
During the trip, a bust train attendant asked for my ticket in a sickly sweet voice that came through a fixed smile. I wordlessly handed her my ticket and she ripped it, handing me back the ticket stub. I pocketed the small piece of yellow paper while the attendant slid the door open and walked out, closing it in the process.
The rest of the ride was silent. I had already bought dinner and there were no stops between Summermont and Point Gate. The train moved nosily on the rusty tracks, passing tall evergreen trees. I presumed we were near the highway, considering I could hear loud car horns and motors, even though the window was closed.
I picked at my dinner, cold spaghetti with a stale dinner roll. When I sent a letter to Ms. Lydia that I was going, she sent me the train ticket (which Mrs. Jones kept safe in case I lost it), the address of the home I was staying at, and another letter further explain my situation and how I would get there. She estimated that the ride would be around a few hours if there were no problems or stops. I was only half way there and I was slowly losing my mind.
It was around nine when the train stopped at the Point Gate station. I nearly hugged the attendant who collected tickets when the train stopped, but her creepy coal black eyes prevented me from doing so. The night was brisk and cool, glittered with twinkling gold stars and a large luminous crescent moon hung in the dark velvet sky. The train station was clearly higher matinence then the one in Summermont. There were no buffs or scratches in the tile wall from careless cart handling. There were no garbage in the area and moving walkways were in the hallways.
I loaded my baggage on a gleaming silver cart that advertised a chain of restaurants, and pushed it at an even pace. The station was bustling with activity. There were people in business suits, travelers, families, and workers in the large building, all doing there personal business. I lounged on the conveyor, one of my hands on the luggage cart and other twisting my caramel locks. At the end of the conveyor, I presumed I was in the lobby, considering it was crowded and I could barely maneuver my cart without accidently hitting someone.
After pushing many strangers, who yelled at me and called me a bratty kid and I would yell at them back, I reached the exit of the large bustling train station. I shoved the cart outside, where I was met with the sight of millions of glittering stars. On the curb, cabs ranging from white to orange were parked, waiting for a passenger. I chose a lime green cab whose driver was a thin old man who had a monotone voice. He helped me load all my bags in the trunk and waited for me to get settled in the back seat.
I learned his name was Karl, when he dully greeted me and asked me where I was going. I wordlessly handed him the address, 13480 Emerald Grove, which was around the large urban neighborhoods near the city along with the fare to pay for the trip. The ride, like the train ride, was silent except for the rumble of the car motor and the distant honking and screeching from the tires.
"Hello, I'm Aurora," I politely greeted Karl. I might as well pass the time by talking to someone.
"Hi," He monotonously greeted.
"How long have you been a cab driver?" I tried again, hoping to start a conversation.
"Five years," He said. I stared at him in disbelief, he was acting like a living corpse!
"Do you have any kids?"
"No." Heh, figures.
I gave up trying to talk to Karl. His short responses gave me goosebumps and it was nearly impossible to have a proper conversation with him.
I gave up talking to Karl and passed the time be gazing outside the window, which was tinted with smashed dead flies and crusty bird droppings.
We reached the neighborhood in a few minutes, considering the train station was near the outside of the city, and I was in awe of the beautiful houses.
Each house was unique and different, some had ivy spreading over the walls, others had gaping doorways, and some even had swimming pools!
Karl parked his car in front of a mint green house that was one of the biggest in the lot. It was at least triple the size of Mrs. Jones house but just was well decorated and beautiful. The exterior was a pistachio mint green while the trim was a more of a darker teal. The walkway leading to the house was decorated with different colored poppies and other small flowers, while the lawn was long and tangled, but manageable.
While I was staring in awe, Karl managed to plop of the suitcases by my side and left without a word. Strange man. I juggled as many suitcases as I could, but I settled on carrying them with my mouth my arms, and hooking one of the largest ones on my foot.
So there I am, hopping like a mad woman with at least 50 pounds weighing me down. It was actually quite comical as I finally reached the arching doorway and was sprawled on the front steps. Tell me, why did they have such a long walkway?
I had difficulty getting up with almost all the suitcases on me, but I got it done and made my way to the door. I pressed the doorbell and it didn’t make a sound. I pressed it repeatedly, hoping that a chime would produce but no sound came out. I rapidly pressed the circular button, but my attempts were futile.
“The bell only rings inside.” I jumped at the sudden voice. I didn’t even notice someone opening the large coffee colored door. I hesitantly turned my head, my hand still skimming the surface of the doorbell.
In the large gaping doorway, a thin yet tall old woman stood still. She had brown hair with a grayish tint wrapped elegantly into a bun. She had sharp features and had a large novel tucked under her stick like arm.
“Hello?” I offered hesitantly as I straightened up and let my arm hang instead of roaming near door.
“Are you Ms. Aurora?” She asked.
“Umm, yes. Are you Lydia?” She just stiffly nodded her head and helped me collect my suitcases. I stumbled inside and if you thought the outside was pretty, the inside was captivating.
Plush coaches, large book cases, and elegant rugs. They must’ve been rich! Lydia was unaffected and set the suitcases near the stain class coffee table.
Lydia stayed quiet as I examined my surroundings. The living room (I assumed) was homely. They’re scarlet and gold couches and chairs set in the room, all facing a large glass coffee table. In front of the cream walls, large ebony book cases were filled with all types of books and assorted plants were scattered throughout the room.
“Is the room to your liking, Ms. Aurora?”
“Aurora’s just fine and yes, the room is beautiful, “I smiled weakly. Lydia tried to return it, but it came more like a grimace.
“Well then,” She continued, “The young master and mistress are sleeping so you will meet them in the morning. I’ll leave your suitcases out here and you can bring them up tomorrow. Your room is the fifth door on the right on the second floor. You must be tired.” She gave a small bow and scurried off to who knows where. I gave the elegant room a sweeping look before making my way up the grand staircases.
What have I gotten myself into?
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It took me awhile to get this chapter up. I hope you enjoy and please review it. I can tell there is alot of mistakes but I can't really tell. So enjoy!
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