The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Chapter 2: Sunday

"Celeste! Celeste, wake up honey," Someone shakes my shoulder.

"Huh?" I rub my eyes with my palms. Mom is bending over me.

"It's Sunday, time to get up!" She says. Shit. Did I just sleep through the whole Saturday afternoon and night?

"Ugh... What time is it?"

"Nine thirty five, dear" she walks over to my pile of boxes. "Now, it's time for you to organize this mess. Your father will be taking you to the furniture store downtown later today, so be ready. Allez, allez! Start with this section here" she points to the big boxes and practically skips out the door. I don't know why she's so cheery right now, she must just like moving. "I'm going to head down to the supermarket for a bit!" she yells from downstairs, "Won't be long!" I hear the door slam and a few seconds later, her car pulls out of the driveway and I watch her through my window as she drives down the road and makes a left.

I walk over to my boxes and start unpacking the bigger ones that Mom told me to start with. Most of it is just books and clothes and shoes... I stack my books neatly in a corner. I'm hoping to get a bookcase with Dad later. Where is he anyway? I walk across the hall to my parents room, and it's practically all unpacked. But I'm not surprised. My mom can't stand her room being messy or in any way unorganized. The bed is perfectly made and the clothes are all folded neatly on the bed and some are on the chair that must've been here when we moved in, like my little piece of furniture with the drawers. But no sign of my dad. I go down stairs and he's in a room, probably his new office, he's typing away on his laptop. My dad's an author. So far he has written one best-selling novel and two short stories. That's part of why we've moved a lot: inspiration.

"Hey, Dad", I say and he looks up from his screen. He's a tall man with blond hair turning grey. He's wearing his work glasses, round circles without rims. He's still in his pajamas and looks like he hasn't slept in a while.

"Oh, hey Less. How's it going?"

"Nothing, just unpacking and stuff", I reply.

"That's nice," He smiles and goes back to typing. I head to the kitchen to get myself something to eat but when I open the fridge, it's empty. Of course. I forgot Mom just went out to get groceries, I'll just have to stay hungry a little longer.

The kitchen is right next to the living room. There isn't a wall to separate the two rooms, just a counter top that looks like it can be used to eat on. Maybe it's some kind of bar. to the left, there is a set of four large windows that look onto the backyard. Behind the yard, there's a forest of pine trees. It's still cloudy out, and it's making me feel tired already. My dad has already set up the TV, which is at the far-end of the living room sitting on the floor-- for now. It's a nice spacious place for three people. I'm not going to lie, I really like it. I pour myself a glass of water and head back up the wooden stairs.