New Cat in Town | Night Cat #0.5

New Cat In Town - Chapter 3

Boxes

As much as I hated to admit it, the house was pretty beautiful. And I don’t mean that in that chick kind of way, where I was admiring the architecture or the sconces or the color of the window panes. It was the vibe of the place that I found appealing.

It was quite similar to my old house, actually. It had this sort of peaceful air about it. Calm and safe. But even with the similar feel, there was also something quite different about it. It gave off this glow of excitement and the promise of a new beginning. Or maybe those were just the feelings that were bouncing off my mother when she took in the house.

My guess? It was probably the latter.

“There it is.” She sighed happily, poking her head out the window. “Isn’t it beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I mumbled disinterestedly. “A regular palace.”

“Must you be so sarcastic all the time?”

“Must? No.” I shook my head. “I just feel that life is so much better with a little touch of sarcasm, don’t you?”

She gave me a wry look. “Just get out and help me with the boxes.” Giving her a mocking salute, I opened the door and hopped out. A loud crunch of gravel filled the air as my shoes fell against the stony ground of our driveway. Enjoying the light breeze that tickled my nose, I took in my surroundings. Except for the cooler atmosphere, Bill had been right when he’d said that Crescent Falls was a lot like Wilson Hill. If I didn’t know any better, I’d actually still think I was back home, on the other side of the woods behind my house.

The new house had a similar layout to my old home. The suburban two-storey house, – complete with a porch swing and a trellis attached to the East wall, – the large backyard that ended with an expanse of shedding Elm trees that quickly morphed into a yawning wood that, from what I could tell, was considerably bigger than the one we’d had back home. Even the gravel driveway was the same.

The only thing missing was… No. Better not think about what was missing just yet. I was with my mom, after all.

Inhaling the scent of trees, earth and plain old fresh air, I walked over to the back of the car, where my mom was pulling out a box from the backseat. We hadn’t brought much with us, just our clothes, photo albums and a few other miscellaneous possessions that we couldn’t bear to part with. Everything else – the furniture, the appliances, - had been left back home, to be sold along with the house. This house’s previous owners had had similar taste to my parents, so my mom had been able to purchase the house fully furnished; a major plus in her books. Not so much for me, though. I would have preferred our old things. But, it so happened that my mother wanted a fresh start, and believe me when I tell you that she was doing everything in her power to make sure we got one. The whole thing bordered on ridiculous most of the time.

“I’ll get that one.” I told her, taking a particularly large box from her. Judging by its weight, I guessed that it probably contained all the Basketball trophies I’d won over the years. I’d wanted to leave them home, with all the other things we weren’t going to take, but mom… she’d insisted.

“Thanks honey.” She’d barely even gotten the whole sentence out before stuffing her head back into the car to retrieve another box. Shaking my head in exasperation, I trudged up the porch steps and up to the front door where, after realizing I didn’t have the house keys, left the box on the stoop.

“Mom, keys.” I said monotonously, taking another box from her hands. The tumbling sounds from the inside told me it was filled with Dad’s old books. In front of me, Mom “oh-ed” and fished out a set of shiny keys from her back pocket.