Lost | A Connor McDonough Fan Fiction

Chapter 1

"Here we are," my dad announced in the truck. I looked up from my phone to see us pull up to a rancher with a nice porch and a bench-like swing on the tree in the front yard. It wasn't as bad looking as I expected. This whole neighborhood was pretty nice. 

We came to the house with our rental truck, which contains my boxes of clothes, books, electronics, and obvious bedroom necessities like pillows and blankets and whatnot. It also had random things that belong to my mom and dad, but I wasn't sure the specifics.

We unloaded everything into the designated rooms and I decided to finally head towards the hallway where my room was located. I rounded the corner in the hallway and opened my door, expecting a tiny, cramped space. The room was actually a little charming. And it was a pretty good size room as well. My furniture was put exactly as I would have placed it, with my bed in the corner, nightstand next to it, my bookcase across from them, and then my desk on the alternate wall with my desk chair tucked neatly under it. My room was professionally cleaned (my mom didn't quite understand the "poor" aspect of our life yet, even after the longest time) and the air smelled strongly of Lysol and Febreeze. It will take awhile to get rid of that.

I opened up my boxes and began the long process of putting my room in order. I began with making my bed and plugging in my lamp, which already added a homey feel to it. After that, I put all of my desk supplies away and all of my old books organized onto my bookcase by the authors' last names. By that point, I was almost done. I hung up a calender and my pin board above my desk, placed a few pictures, trophies, and certificates on different shelves, all until my room was officially my room. It took about two and a half hours, but the room was finished, and I think I liked it better than my old room, to be honest. I stood on the shiny wood floors feeling quite accomplished.

I heard a voice behind me. "Beautiful," my mom said.

"Thanks," I smiled at her ingenuinely.

There was a moment of silence between us. She knows no matter what I will always hate it here. Leaving my life was hard on me, she knows it too. 

"Claire," she began. "I know this move was difficult, but I think you will grow to like it here. It's warm all year 'round-"

"I hate warm weather."

"-there's always something to do-"

"I'd rather stay home."

"-it's busy, you'll always be occupied-"

"I like to have free time."

She was going to continue on, but she knew it was useless to because of my blunt responses in between her excuses to make this feel better.

She sighed. "I want you to know that we are trying, Claire, we really are trying."

I looked at her. "I know Mom."

We stayed standing there for a moment until she finally said, "Since there's no food in the house, your dad was thinking about going out for a quick dinner."

"Let me guess. I'm sensing a chain restaurant..." I held up my hands to my temples with a funny face as if I wasn't expecting a certain answer. 

She laughed. "Well, you know your father," she smiled. "How about you pick. What do you feel like tonight?"

I gave her a face of intense pondering. "Hmm..." I tapped my chin. "I'm feelin' Mexican tonight."

"I should've expected," she gave dubious look.

This time I actually smiled genuinely for the fact that she knows my love for Mexican food. She hasn't been able to say a true fact about me since she went crazy with the deficit and everything. It was almost as if she forgot all about me when my dad lost his job.