Kismet

Chapter One

This is how all of the rest of my life started. . . sort of. One of my favorite words is 'kismet'-- which means destiny, or fate. I was forced to learn the word in school, but I spent a lot of time thinking about it. Sometimes it's horrible, sometimes it's the best thing that could happen to a person. Me? It's both, I guess. Then again, everybody has a kismet. It's something that no living thing can escape.

For example, a lion hunts a zebra for a feed that will keep it going for a few days. The lion thinks nothing of it, except that it will have a full belly until the next hunt. But what about the zebra? It's dead. Forever. It's something that not even animals can squeeze out of, unfortunately.

And mine all started when we moved to Ludlow, Maine. In an old log cabin that was more in need of a makeover than a bald cat.

"Why here?" I complain for the umpteenth time.

Mom groans. "Because me and your father liked it here, Kiara. Stop complaining or I'll put your room in the basement." That's when I shut my mouth. The first time we took a look at this house, the basement was a horror-filled place with webs and spiders and dust everywhere. The walls and floor were cement, which made everything freezing. No windows complete the mess. No way I was living down there. It was more of a cellar, really.

"But why this house?" I ask. "I mean, in the middle of the forest."

This time she doesn't even bother to answer me. I huff and rest my chin on my palm, gazing out of the car window. I watch as the trees silently whizz by, each seeming to be blended in with each other as we drive by.

I want to get something straight, though. I am not by any chances a "city girl" or a "girly girl." I grew up on a ranch for the first five years of my life, and then we moved to New York, which was a bad mistake for my parents to make. Then, guess what. Here we are, moving to some cabin in the middle of a forest, just off Ludlow. I had very good friends there, and I didn't want to leave. My best friend Amanda broke down when I left, and I felt so horrible for leaving her. The one thing I was unfamiliar with was the woods. I've only lived on open space, and for a short time, surrounded by buildings and cement.

I turn to my phone, which is nearly out of battery. I have one text from Amanda. It reads, "I cant believe you've gone!!! R u at ur house yet?"

I quickly type back, "Not yet. I miss you already, and I wish I didn't have to go."

"Kiara," Dad says. "Who are you texting?"

"Amanda," I say, rolling my eyes as soon as he looks away from the review mirror. He is very protective over me, especially when it comes to boys. I've never had a boyfriend before, but oddly, I don't really mind. The only thing I really love is reading and cats.

As my thoughts switch to the feline category, I turn my gaze to the kennel beside my seat. I reach down and put my fingers through the steel bars on the front, offering some sort of comfort to my car-sick kitten. Maybe that was too much of a word for her. She wasn't a kitten; she was a fat black and white American short hair named Shelby. I loved her all the same. She always cuddles with me at night, except storms. Then, she goes and hides under the couch. If she manages to fit, anyways.

Shelby lets out a pitiful meow, but doesn't go forward to touch my fingers. I pull them back, muttering a soothing reply to her. "It's alright, Shebs. We're almost there. Right?"

Mom nods. "Almost."

I sigh and look back out the window. I wonder how much longer 'almost' is.

I am violently shaken, causing to me arouse with a gasp. "Wh-"

"We're here," somebody says, their voice sweet and young. I turn to see my little brother, Chris, awake and shaking me. I'd forgotten he was there, I guess, and I also think that I'd fallen asleep.

"Why'd you have to wake me up like that?" I ask bitterly. I sit up, and immediately feel a crick in my neck from laying the way I did. I slowly move my head sideways, clearing the pain. Chris lets out a squeal of excitement and crawls out of the car, pushing open the door. The first thing I think of is to get Shelby out, so I did. Assuming she's too fat to run, I unlatch her cage. At first she doesn't respond, but then she slowly creeps out, looking around with wide green eyes.

"Come on, Shebs," I say, picking her up. I unbuckle my belt and swing open the car door, the fat cat still in my arms. I stand outside, in the direct view of our house. It was a two story house, but no attic. It was classic wood, but a little darker than a cabin. This was more like a summer home than a permanent one, I think to myself.

I carry Shelby, who refuses to stand to herself, up to the house where my Dad is unlocking the door with the new keys.

"Wow!" Chris marvels. 

I roll my eyes. "We haven't even stepped inside yet, genius." 

Chris shrugs, looking up at me. "I like the door." He smiles mischievously. Dad finally gets the door open, and as soon as he does, Chris runs inside while screaming. Mom shushes him and the rest of us walk inside the house. I cough involuntarily, and Mom shoots me a glare. It wasn't my fault this house was one hundred years old. It smells of moths and the stuff you find in your gutters. Nasty. 

"This is wonderful!" Mom sighs, setting her bag down. I bend down and put Shelby down on the wooden floor, but she doesn't move. I gently nudge her with my foot. 

"Will she be. . . safe, here?" I ask doubtfully, glancing up at my parents. But they're already gone deeper into the house, staring up at the peeling wallpaper. I sigh and open the doorknob, stepping outside. Shelby tries to follow me, but I tell her to stay, gently closing the door.

   I step outside, and the heat suddenly hits me with a blast that I hadn't noticed before. Even in the forest beneath the shade, it's as hot as sitting outside in the yard at our old house. I quickly walk over to the car and swing open the door. I snatch up my bag with one day clothes supply in it-- to be used while the moving truck is still out and the boxes are unpacked. I grab my book and phone off the hot seat and tuck it under my arm, shutting the door.

   I stare up at our new house again, squinting against the sun. I think of all the different things that will happen in this house. I will have to walk a ways to ride the bus to school later in the year, I would have to get all my things in one trip to town lasting for about a week at least, and less people coming over. I mean, if I actually find friends at school and stuff.

  A rustling makes me turn my head warily. I stare into the trees, and they start to become eery as I glance. I flinch and speed-walk into the house.

   "Scared?" Chris mocks, jogging down the stairs. "I love this place, Kiara! Now I can finally practice my archery!"

   I huff. "I was not scared, Chris. And you shouldn't start up that archery crap. You've never touched a bow in your life."

   He glares at me. "Yeah? Well, now I can. I'm saving up my money for one."

   I'm just about to snap at him that it's dangerous, when I hear a startled gasp from mother. It was coming from the new living room. My brother and I quickly race into the empty room, only to find Mom with her hands over her mouth. She was staring at the wall. Confused, I slowly enter the room.

   "Mom?" I ask. What could she possibly have seen in this bare room?

   "The fireplace!" she sighs dreamily. "It's better than I realized!"

   I look down at the brick wood-feeding fireplace below her feet. What was so awesome about it? It's shaped like an old-fashioned palace pit, but only smaller. The bricks curl over the top in a design that was surprisingly pretty, considering the fact that they're red bricks.

   "The moving truck it here!" Dad announces from the kitchen, glancing out the window. The hallway is designed so that you could see the kitchen from across the den clearly, and the stairs are right by the door behind the den wall. Chris rushes to Dad, also peering out the dirty windows.

    Shelby passes in front of me, gazing into the den and the fireplace. Her green eyes are wide with curiosity, and she glances up at me.

    I bend down next to her, gently stroking her back. "This is our new home, Shebs. Better start liking it.''