"Chasity!! Your suitcase is in the hallway come get it!!" My dad yelled from downstairs. I wanted to see my new empty room, the picture made it look like it was about the side of a small office. But it was better then nothing. I decided I better get my suitcase before my stepmom starts to rummage through it and find my cigarettes. I'm not exactly allowed to smoke but lately it's the only think keeping my mind off this moving procedure knowing we probably won't last more then a few months before we move again. I ran down the carpeted stairs
I grabbed my suitcase and rolled it up the stairs to my room. It was clean but the emptiness of it all had a effect on me..this small room was just an empty void with all the potential to be something. An art room, a playroom, or in my case a bedroom. This room was basically a reflection of my life. My dad always did tell me in his sentimental moments "The world is like a giant machine. Every part has its place and has a purpose."
Except I didn't feel like I had a purpose. Why am I here? Alive. Breathing... I snapped out of my daze and opened up my suitcase. Of course there were minimal clothes since we seem to move every year its easier to just carry 1 suitcase.
Inside was maybe a couple of t shirts, about two pairs of jeans, my bathroom necessities and shoes. Not much. I pulled the stuff out and started stacking them in the small closet next to the door. As I lifted the last shirt I heard a crinkle.. I looked down and I realized it was a photograph. The one of my mother and me at the zoo when I was about 4 years old. You can see the ice cream stain on my shirt and my mothers beautiful green eyes and her perfect smile and her double dimple we used to call it. She has two dimples on one cheek. And how her hair flowed on her shoulders and the sun gave it a slight red highlight...
Though this picture brought back so many happy memories it also brings back the ones I despise. A rage started to fume inside of me and my left hand turned into a fist.
Ever since that day 13 years ago, I have not been able to erase the memories in my head of that night when I lost her forever...
I was startled out of my thoughts by my stepmothers voice "chasity!! Come eat darling!! I make your favorite!!!" I fucking hate when she calls me that. Not like she's my real mom anyway. Matter of fact i call her by her name. Jess. But I was hungry and by the smell I could tell it was some type of chicken.
I came down the stairs and as I entered the kitchen my dads hands were on jess's hips and had his head snuggled in her neck.
Oh gosh.. This is awkward. I just stood in the doorway hoping my brain was playing tricks on me and that my fathers hands weren't just traveling over Jess's body in the damn kitchen...
"Ahem.." I coughed. And both of them obviously startled let go of each other and turned around. "Oh dear.. Uhm your foods in the other room honey" jess said. I just stared and walked away fast as possible.
As I entered the dining room I could hear them mumbling to each other
'Oh dear . what must she think!" Said jess
"I don't know she'll be fine. We are married after all we haven't broken any rules" dad said.
I rolled my eyes and took my food to my room instead.
As I sat on my bed my head started to fill with all the thoughts of moving which ment new friends. New school. New neighborhood. I just want some peace and quiet. So I played some music from my phone and when I sat down I noticed the journal jess had given me earlier.
I know I hated most gifts from her. But maybe she was right. Writing in this journal might be good for me. I mean I did have a few things in my mind. The photo I found, the whole moving situation, my father and jess just groping on each other in the kitchen. Ew. Just the thought it grossing me out.
I picked it up and sat back down and got a purple pen and started to write.
Dear journal...
