A Second Chance At Life

Footsteps

     I woke to the sound of footsteps, and bolted up faster than greased lightning. My mind raced. Is there someone in the house? Will he kill me? I suddenly saw a shadow under my door, long and elusive. Is he coming to get me? I tried to be as quiet as I could as I reached under my bed for my pepper spray - saved just for this sort of ocassion. The door slowly creaked open, protesting against the worn hinges.

     "Honey, are you still awake?" my sister asked. I let out a sigh of relief. "Jeez, Lucy, I guess now I am." I rolled my eyes and flipped over in the bed, set on going right back to sleep. Of course, she wouldn't have that.

     "Come on, lazy, we're going for a trip." I stared at her in shock. "Hurry up and get dressed," she urged. I cast a wary glance at my alarm clock. "Luce. It's three a.m.! Are you insane?" I screeched.

     "I may be, but I'll explain on the drive."

     "Ugh . . ." I moaned and rolled out of the comfort of my bed. "Do I have to?" I asked. I then realized that I didn't have a choice, and slipped into my house shoes.

     "Did I ask you to get up or did I tell you?" she teased. I flashed her a Really? look, and waved her out so I could get dressed. I flipped on the light and glanced at my closet. What does one wear on a car trip to God-knows-where? I peeked through my dresses, then decided against it, seeing the storm clouds in the distance through the window. I instead chose skinny jeans and a hoodie. I checked my hair in the mirror and frowned. I have lived in the city since I was born, but I certainly didn't look the part. I have ridiculously pale skin, thick brown curls, gray eyes, and no distinguishing traits whatsoever. I should be interesting, a YouTuber, or perhaps Instagram famous, for my vegan donuts, or makeup tutorials like normal teenagers from Chicago. Instead, I'm stuck like this. Oh, well.

     I grabbed my purse - who knows if I'd need it - and stalked out of my room, still irked about having to wake up. I found her at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me, car keys in hand. "Hurry up, Lacey." I instead ignored her and stubbornly walked as slow as I possibly could down the stairs. After I had finished putting on my little charade, I grinned and opened the door for her. "After you, madame," I laughed. This is the thing with us - we are exactly alike. We even look the same, sound the same, and love the same things. We always joked about Lucy being my honorary mother. Our mom died when I was born, and my dad died a year later. Luckily, I had my sister, who was seventeen at the time. The state only allowed me to stay with her on the promise that we would stay out of trouble. Somehow, though, she is - and has been - for all intents and purposes, my mother.

     As we hop into our souped-up pickup, I ask where we are going. She simply said, "You'll find out soon." I began to grow impatient with her. After a block, we pulled over, and Lucy made me lay down in the seat back for two purposes. The first was so I could finally get back to sleep. The second is so I wouldn't peek out the window.

• • •

     I was shortly lulled to sleep when Lucy pops in one of my mother's old CDs. When I woke up, it was already eight in the morning, and we were still driving, though I had no idea where we were. For some reason, I couldn't see. I rubbed at my eyes and realized that she put a sleep mask over my eyes. I decided to keep it on, so she wouldn't be upset with me for peeking. I eventually got Lucy to turn the stereo back on and play me something other than the mindless jag on the radio. For some reason we were only receiving country stations. After another hour or so of this, we finally stopped, and she took the makeshift blindfold off. I blinked. Everything here is so green. Even the mountains . . . Why are we here? Whose house is this? I eventually lose my train of thought and just end up staring at the mountains.

     "Pretty, isn't it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. I gaped open-mouthed at her. "You really don't remember where we are, do you?" she said, looking crestfallen. I shook my head, wondering why she would be so upset about something so beautiful.

     "Mom used to bring us here all the time," she whined. I tried to look closer at the house. It wasn't much, but it wasn't terrible either, I figured. It was a small, white house with a baby blue Chevy in its one-car garage and a wraparound porch. On second thought, I guess it is kind of pretty in an antique way, I thought.

     I finally found my voice, "Where are we?" I asked as I stared at the small house. She gazed at me with her eyebrows scrunched together.

     "This is your aunt's house," she explained, eyes on me. "We used to live down the road before the accident." She looked upset, but I couldn't figure out why. Either she couldn't understand why I didn't remember something from twelve years ago, or she was worried I'd break down and cry over someone who didn't want to take us in. "She wants us to live with her."

     I shot her a shocked confused look. "Why? Is she worried that she'll get sued by us or something?" She tried to smother a laugh, and tucked her lip between to her teeth. "No, she just wants to help us. We've been having a rough time lately." I had to admit that we were, seeing how we couldn't keep up with our bills, even with both of us working. "She even wants to pay for your college. If, of course, you give her a chance." She cocked an eyebrow.

     I stood there stock-still glaring at her. "You want me to give her a chance? Why didn't she give us one?" I was past the point of boiling. "She could have taken us in twelve years ago." She calmly waited until I am done with my rant, and said, "She didn't have the money then, sweetie. She couldn't."

     I had no idea what to say then. I simply grabbed my purse out of the car and asked if we should've taken our bags. "No, Lacey. We get to start over. Fresh." I sit in the grass and ponder that for a while. I will probably have to start worrying about my grades then. I rolled my eyes. It's probably a good thing I didn't have many friends in the first place. The thing is, I didn't. I was a rather standoffish girl, and Lucy always said I was born more mature than ever would be necessary. I've never been on exactly the same page as anyone, more worried about work than play. I didn't 'party' like the other girls I know, either. I found it irresponsible, time wasted.

     I started to head towards the door, and Lucy followed. Aunt Pam got to the door before we did. Standing before Lucy and me was a sixty-something woman with a dark complexion from the (what I found out later was Tennessee) sun and white hair kept in a tight bun. The only inviting part about her was her eyes. They were stormy gray, as though they were a perfected version of mine - a sort of Lacey 2.0. - and hidden deep in the silvery pools was obvious excitement. I took this as a hint and hurried up the steps to give her, a woman I hadn't seen since the age of five, a hug. She had a surprising grip for her age.

     "I'm so glad you're here now," she whispered into my hair.