Worse for Hope- Book #2 in the WF Series

Chapter 1: Worse

✿Bethane's POV:✿

Sunday, October 1

"We made it!" my mom excitedly exclaims.

Don't worry, this is only about the twentieth or so time she's squealed. No biggie.

Her dirty blonde hair like mine flowing beautifully down to her mid-shoulder. Her blue eyes are absolutely stunning as they look back at me from the passenger seat, and her face has not a wrinkle in sight.

My dad on the other hand who is driving is much like the opposite of her; physically and mentally. His features are much darker and sharper with brown, gelled-back hair, a beard, and dark brown eyes. He's not as enthusiastic as my mom is, but that's what makes them perfect for each other. And perfect for me because my dad and I share the same qualities, so if my mom is ever being too energetic, we can look over at each other and realize we're not the only ones who are thinking about how in the world she is so optimistic.

The car gets put in park as we all open our doors and look at the new house we're going to be living in.

I know all the "Time for new beginnings" and "We need a fresh start" bullshit is annoying and sounds like it's right out of a Hallmark movie, but I think my mom might be the manager of that channel so what else did I expect for her to say about this. And by the way, when she says 'We need a fresh start' she's talking about me, but just won't say it because Penelope Blackwood is everything but rude.

"Everything is going to change," my mom repeats what she's been saying since we found out we were moving.

I look over at my dad and see his joking eyes glancing over at me. I smile at him humorously and he smiles back as we watch my mom go ballistic over us moving to Ohio.

Living in Tennessee and growing up in a small town wasn't the easiest; especially since everyone knew what happened and had seen me change because of it. That's why my parents decided that we should move to get away from the memories.

Even though that hurt to hear, what was I supposed to say? I had become so distant and cried so much that opening my mouth took all the motivation out of me.

Leaving wasn't something I was ready for, and I don't think my parents understand that just because we left, doesn't mean that I'll just go back to my happy, regular teenage self again. I don't think I even remember how to be that person anymore when the person who helped me become her is gone.

"I get it, Mom." I turn my head toward her with no expression, not on purpose, but her smile still gets wiped off because of my response.

"Sweetie, this isn't because I want you to forget. It's because I want you to learn to move on while grieving," she promises.

I know she's telling the truth, but tell me how she expects me to move on when I don't even see something to move towards.

"We want you to be happy." My dad puts his hand on my shoulder, making me look up into his emotional eyes which is rare to see from him.

I know it hurt him to see her go too, no matter how much he repeated how she got on his damn nerves. He loved her like a daughter, and so did my mom.

"Come on." My mom pulls my arm to walk me in through the front door.

The house is pretty.

It's two stories, white exterior with a gray roof, and four pillars at the front with bluish-gray double doors which match perfectly with everything else. The windows look into the sort-of furnished house since most of our stuff should be here with the moving trucks, and since it's nighttime, the small lights on the deck make the house look even nicer.