The girl who stares

C H A P T E R O N E P O I N T O N E : Bad Habits.

I  listened to my  family's loud babble, their excitement over the new house and oh so expensive tiles and chandeliers, never-fucking-ending. I glance at my dorky brother and sister sliding over the overtly shiny and slippery ass tiles, neither of them taking caution of the sliding doors just two meters away.

I sighed heavily, then  turned away, going towards the stairs then call over my shoulder to my parents. "I'm going to go choose my room."

Distracted murmurs of 'okay, sweets' followed and that was all confirmation I needed. With more force than necessary I dragged my suitcases up the stairs. I looked in each room with critique to see if they had a decent sized closet and a bathroom attached to the bedroom. No way was I sharing a bathroom with those snot nosed brats.

And it looks like they delivered, because each room had a bathroom of their own. So I, obviously, started looking for the smallest bedroom. It was always comfy to have a smaller space, I genuinely loved it more than a big ass room. It felt more home like. When I finally, finally found the smallest ( which wasn't even really small to begin with ), I leapt for it as if I was a lioness, claiming it like it was the last cookie in the jar.

Not a minute later I hear my annoying brother call his bedroom, and my sister throw obscenities at him.

Just a normal day. In a new house. What a fucking nightmare.

The theme song of The Loud house plays in my head over and over again. Groaning, I chuck myself onto the bed, unceremoniously, kick off my high tops, and close my eyes. I just want a moment's peace before school starts tomorrow.

I hear my phone's set ringtone faintly, somewhere in my packed bags: Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran. Knowing who it is I jump for the bag that has my camera safely stored, and unzip the first one, taking my phone and immediately answer the phone.

"Hello?! Bitch, I've called you a million times." My best friend wasn't the most patient person to ever live, but I loved her all the same.

"You say that now," I take the phone away from my ear and check the screen, "I see no missed calls." I hear an audible humph and then I laugh lightly. She was the most dramatic person I know.

"Check your whatsapp, dumbass, I whatsapp called you. You would know, if you'd have bothered to check it once in a while. I must have sent you hundreds." Doing as she says I open the app, then roll my eyes. Like I said, dramatic.

"Riiight," I deadpan sarcastically, "hundreds." I look at the thirty messages she's sent me. Each one funnier and weirder than the last. "Why are you calling so late anyway, Lizzy, isn't it like ten o'clock there?"

"Can't I just miss my best friend," I feel like a horrible friend for a second and then she conveniently adds to her sentence, "Bitch."

I sigh, dramatically, "It's horrible, being so far away. It's like, ugh." That's the best description you could give? Ugh? You're quite possible the worst conversationalist to live, my brain wasn't lying, I truly was bad at making conversation.

I hardly had friends at my old school. Lizzy and the crazy janitor lady, Lola. Well we all assumed that was her name, since she was certifiably crazy.

"It's going pretty ugh here too, Kell's," she sounded sad, and I wanted to help, but I was far away now. Too far to physically be there for her, but close enough to listen. I stayed quiet for her to talk, that's what we always did. If something was wrong or bothering her, I'd stay quiet and listen.

But tonight I was surprised, she didn't say a thing, just giggled sadly and then wished me a good first day of school.

"Hey, Kell's it is pretty late, I'm going to go sleep. Goodnight, love you, bitch." And with a click on her end, the phone call ended.

"Yeah, good night Lizzy."

This was the first night she hasn't confided in me, I sure hope it would be the last. I check the time. Already after seven. Checking my bags for toiletries and towels, then finally find what I'm looking for. I make my way to my tiny bathroom, and look in the mirror:

A pair of eyes stare back, one a stormy gray and the other a dull mud brown. A patch of white, my birthmark, streaks my frizzy dark hair. The humidity was not playing games. Bee stung lips in the shape of a cupid's bow. And a scrunched button nose. A piercing on the right side of my nose, along with three studs in each of my ears.

Finally, I focus back onto what I originally wanted to do, I splash my face with cold water, then brush my teeth. Drying my face off the extra water. I turn and go back to bed.

I plug in my earphones and shuffle my songs, I drift off to sleep. The last thing I remember thinking is,Tomorrow is gonna be a long day.