Who We Are, What I Am

Chapter 1

I've always thought my life was perfect. That nothing could ever go wrong. Staring at people filled me up with pride that made me feel confident. I loved everyone and everything. I would draw whenever I could, if I wasn't with my friends. But now, staring outside the car window, being driven to my new home by my dad, just makes me fill with sorrow and regret. I barley even had time to pack; only some clothes, my sketchbook, and my one-of-a-kind knitted wolf that I made in 5th grade which turned out pretty good.

My father was keeping his eyes on the road the whole time. All I hear is the humming of the engine as we rode along the road. I look at my dad. He turns a little while driving to look at me. "Honey, it's alright.."

"Dad." I sighed. "Stop. Sugar-Coating things. I'm not 3. I'm almost 13 Dad."

My dad breathed in a shaky breath of air as he turned back to the road. "I know. I'm- I'm sorry."

"Dad, you didn't know mom- I mean Ann was like that, it's not your fault." I stifled a yawn. "Are we almost there? I'm getting tired."

"Aww... um we're like, still 2 hours away... sorry we had to move so far." My Dad murmured.

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked.

"We're going to my aunt's house." Dad replied.

"Ok." I stopped talking, because I knew all my dad would say is sorry.

I pull out my sketchbook and start drawing. I've loved drawing since I was little; visions of my dad buying me colored pencils on christmas, taping my bad-drawed pictures on the wall when I was five, and me, drawing a card for my dad on his birthday. I never showed anyone my drawings except dad; afraid that my friends would think I was weird, and I would never show my mom anything.

I started adding some ruffled fur onto my wolf sketch, and then there was a really sharp bump that caused my pencil to make a very sharp line on my paper, me to fly up an inch from my chair, and my dad's car, swerving in circles, and finally stopping to a halt. I bumped my head onto the seat, and I passed out.