Shining Star

Chapter 1

I looked out of the window and watched the blocks of houses go by. I was already beginning to miss them. I had lived in this city since I was born. I knew its streets like the back of my hand. The many stores and cafés in the city center, not to mention the beautiful park in the center. It felt more than a little strange to see the passing houses in the rear-view mirrors, which symbolized home for me. To be honest, I didn't expect it, let alone toy with the idea of leaving my home in the next few years. Until the day came when my parents decided to separate. Now I'm sitting in the car with my mother on the way to our new, chosen home, leaving behind the place I called home. The further away we got from my former home, the sadder I felt. At some point, I lost myself in my thoughts and looked out of the window more or less as a cover, hoping to avoid a possible conversation with my mother. I wasn't in the mood for conversation of any kind. I've always had a tendency to get lost in my thoughts. Especially after that one day. The day that changed everything. The day I tried to forget. That hasn't changed to this day. That's why I didn't realize at first that my mother was trying to start a conversation with me. My thoughts wandered around my best friend Matthew and my family for a while before they turned to the one topic that had been giving me a toothache for weeks.

My mother told me a few weeks ago that we were moving in with my grandparents. This didn't necessarily improve my mood. I hardly ever saw my grandparents, or rather I largely avoided it. It wasn't exactly the smart thing to do, I know that myself. It's not that I hated them. At least not both of them. Grandpa was the sweetest person I knew. He was rarely in a bad mood and was always up for a laugh. I liked him a lot and he seemed to like me too. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated my guts. I still don't know what I did to her. She found fault with everything I did, which is why we got into arguments every time. She couldn't or wouldn't accept that I was the way I was. My mother often got into arguments with her because Grandma accused her that I had only become like that because she had let too much through in my upbringing. She should have been stricter with me, otherwise I wouldn't have turned out like this, a naughty brat, as she liked to emphasize. If she had brought me up, I certainly wouldn't have turned out like that. In general, the relationship between my mother and grandma was very strained, which didn't really surprise me. If I had to imagine having to live under the same roof as her from an early age, I would probably have shot myself long ago. I felt really sorry for my mother in that respect, because she had to. Now you're probably wondering why we moved there of all places. The answer was quite simple: we had no other choice. My mother hadn't worked in the last few years. She didn't have to. Dad had earned enough to provide for the family. She had taken care of the household and looked after my brother and I. But after the separation, I found out for the first time that my parents had signed a prenuptial agreement when they got married, which stated that he would not pay any maintenance for my mother. So we were more or less completely without money and wouldn't even have been able to afford an apartment. So my mother accepted my grandmother's offer, despite gritting her teeth.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my left shoulder, which snapped me out of my thoughts. I flinched before turning my gaze to the left. I saw my mother looking at me. Only now did I realize that we were in a parking lot and no longer on a highway.

"It's all right, sweetie."

I looked at her and thought about what to say in response. I could have told her the truth about my worries and talked to her about the things that were bothering me, but I decided against it.

"It's all right," I answered her calmly, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Mother was always very sensitive and could sense when something was in her stomach. So I wasn't really surprised that she looked at me skeptically. I suspected that she didn't believe me.

"Are you sure about that? I can see that something is bothering you. You know you can talk to me about anything," she said in a very empathetic tone.

Of course I knew that. But I knew that she had plenty of her own problems to deal with. She was always good at hiding them from everyone and everything and playing the strong housewife and mother. However, I knew my mother too well to know that behind the facade she had put up, things were very different from what they seemed. Perhaps we were too similar in this matter. But it was clear to me that she didn't need her teenage daughter's problems weighing on her shoulders. I forced a smile and answered her.