The New House

The New House

A Chapter by Regan :)

"We're here!" My mom said happily. I glanced up from my ipod. Everywhere I looked I saw tall buildings. I guess I'll just have to get used to it since I'll be living in Chicago now.

"Yay," I said sarcasticly. My mom gave me a concerned look.

"What you don't like it?" My mom asked sounding a little hurt. I looked up at the tall shabby building that was now my new house, or appartment or whatever.

"Oh it's great," I muttered. She drove under the building and into the dark underground parking lot. When she parked we got out of the car. I grabbed a couple boxes from the car. We got into the elevator and hit the number 4 button.

"Room 403 here we come," My mom said tryin to make me smile. It din't work. "Come on Mia," She said sound a tad bit anoyed, "Can you just show a little happiness? Your always so glum. I read in a book that if you talk more with me you'll feel-" My mom was interrupted by the loud ding of the elavator. Thank God! I walked out. The first thing I noticed about the place was that it smelled musty. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"This way honey," My mom said happily. I slowly followed her down the hall. She stopped at the door that said "403". The 3 looked like it was about to fall off and the 4 was all rusty.

"You can be the first one to open it!" She said setting down the boxes and handing me the key.

"No thanks." I said. My mom looked hurt. She stuck the key in the door and twisted it. The door creakily swung open. My mom switched on the light.

"Welcome home!" She said. My eyes were attacked by bright shades of orange and yellow. I stepped inside. The movers had already moved all our stuff into the house. To my left was a small kitchen that had bright green cabinets and bright orange cabinets. To the other side of me was a living room with an old brown couch and tv set.

"What do you think?" My mom asked smiling like this place was the best place ever.

"Where is my room?" I asked, ignoring her question. The answer was that this place looked like crap.
"Right down the hall to the left," She said pointing her finger, "Start to unpack." I nodded and walked down the hall. I opened the door to my room and my heart dropped.

The first thing I notcice was the ugly green wall. It looked like somebody had thrown up all over it. My twin sized bed and my dress took up most of the room. I sighed. I set down the boxes and began to place my clothes neatly in the dresser. After I had unpacked all my clothes I took the last item out of my box. It was a small picture frame with a picture of my dad and I together on the beach. The sight of him reminded her how much she missed him. Tears stung her eyes as the memories flooded back. The night the FBI brooke into her house, took her father, accused him of murdering 5 people, and then worst of all her father pleaded that he was guilty. Now he was trapped in jail for the rest of his life. How could he do that? I thought I knew him, but I didn't. It had been a few weeks since my father had been sentanced. Her mother tried to keep everything normal by working day and night. But the job she was working at "let her go.". Thats just a nice way of saying your fired. So we were forced to move to the city. My mom was going to start working at a newspaper company. I didn't know what emotion to feel. Anger, sadness, hatred, or confused. So now I just choose not to show any of the above.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. I flinched.

"Don't you just love it here?" My mom said coming in my room. I shoved the picture frame back into the box. My pulse slowed down as I relaxed. It's okay, I thought to myself, It's just mom.

"Yea I guess," I muttered.

"We can paint the walls if you want," She said looking around the room. I nodded. Then a loud rapping interrupted me again. I flinched again. Memories flooded back. The pounding at the door, the man opening my door, me running down the hall, the man grabbing my arm, waking up my mother, then seeing my father being dragged out of the house. They all came back. When I came back to reality I found myself on the ground, under my bed.

"Mia!" My mother was saying in an urgent voice, "It's okay Mia, you're safe. It's all right." The comforting voice of my mother calmed me down. I felt something warm roll down my cheek. I realized that I had been crying.

"Mia come out from under there," My mom said. She got up to go answer the door. I slowly stood up and wiped my tears away. That wasn't the first time something like that had happened. My doctor said that this happened because that night was so traumatizing. My heart was pounding loud again. I tried to do what my doctor said to do.

"That night will never happen again," I said to myself closing my eyes, "I'm safe here. That night will never happen again."
"Mia come here," My mother yelled. I slowly walked out of my room. My mother was at the doorway talking to a short lady with brown hair. The lady seemed to be holding some sort of pie in her hands.

"Yea we just moved her from up north," My mom was saying to the lady, then my mom noticed me, "Angela, this is my daughter Mia. Mia this is Mrs." My mom looked at Angela for her last name.

"Hi Mia you can call me Mrs. Cody." She said smiling warmly. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had remembered hearing that name. I tried to remember but it wasn't coming. I returned the smile to Mrs. Cody.

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Cody," I said. I glanced at my mom. For some reason she suddenly had become pale at the mention of Mrs. Cody's last name.

"Here," Mrs. Cody said handing my mom the pie, "I made you some home made peach pie. Family recipe." My mom accepted the gift.

"Thank you so much!" My mom said in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry I don't have anything prepard for you." Mrs. Cody shook her head.

"We don't need anything," Mrs. Cody replied smiling.



© 2012 Regan :)


Author's Note

Regan :)
not finished

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Added on November 1, 2012
Last Updated on November 2, 2012


Author

Regan :)
Regan :)

Texas , Vancouver, Canada



About
I enjoy writing (of course), softball, hunting, and hanging out with my friends. more..

Writing