The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Chapter 1: Painting it blue

I hate moving. It's hard to leave everything behind. Friends, house, school... But that's just how it is. Your mom or dad gets a new business offer and you have no choice. You leave, and after a while people forget you. You have to go and start all over again. Friends, house, school... But that's just how it is, I guess. It's not like I'm not used to it. We move every four years and not always just for new business offers. My parents have some kind of tradition to never stay in the same place longer than four years. Well, at least I get to see the world.

When I was born, my parents decided to move to Rome for a year. Of course, I have no memories of it but I've been told the stories or seen the pictures so many times that I just think I remember. We've also lived in France and Greece. We've also lived in the US, of course. States like Michigan, Washington DC and California. I was born in Oregon, and I'd like to tell you about it but I honestly don't remember a single thing.

We just moved to Colorado. When we got off the plane, it was raining and it still is. I hope it's not one of those kinds of places. It's depressing. I remember when we lived in California it would almost never rain. Maybe five times a year. And it was nice at first, always having a tan and being able to go to the beach. But the grass and the plants that didn't get watered turned brown and died. There were even fires out by the highway, it was so dry. So, I guess too much rain is depressing but so is not enough.

My new room is white, I'm planning on painting it blue. I'm not sure what shade yet, but blue just seems like a good color. I read in a magazine that painting your room blue makes you feel more relaxed and I wonder if that's true. I guess there's only one way to find out. I have big windows on the right end of the room, a bed with red floral sheets and pillows. And one small piece of furniture that was already here. I think it's to put my clothes in-ha! yeah, right. Hopefully dad will take me to Ikea this weekend. And there are also boxes. Lots and lots of cardboard boxes. It's hard to see in my room because a. it's crappy weather out and it looks like it's seven at night when it's really two in the afternoon, and also because b. the light bulb that's in the middle of the room is either horrible quality or maybe just old because it really doesn't do the job. It just flickers like it's refusing to give up.

I'm so tired, my eyes are stinging. I think I'll just take a nap and then start unpacking later. I'm sure Mom and Dad won't mind. For all I know, they're probably doing the same thing right know. I lay down on my bed, the only decent piece of furniture in this room, and kick off my boots. If I lay on my right side, I can look out my window at the deserted road and at the neighbors houses. I really like my window...