Don't Go. (EDITING)

Chapter 18

Mom wakes me up by knocking on my door. I roll over and moan as she walks in, and throws open my curtains, letting the bright, mid afternoon sun glare into my room.

"Why'd you that?" I wine, pulling my sheet over my head. I sigh in the darkness shielding my body.

"Because you still haven't cleaned your room. You do know that once you've unpacked fully, you can have electronics back? Lorne's been sending you pictures from California all week. I told him that you're grounded, so I have your phone." Mom says, placing her curled hands on her hips. "So get up, and clean your room already! Poor Lorne misses you. Also, do you kow where my thread is? I need to sew up a tear in your Dad's jean hem."

"Well I miss him too." I push myself up, my head still covered. "And I don't know where your thread is."

"Just another reason to get your phone back." The sheet is pulled off of me, and I hiss and snuggle back up with my back to Mom.

"To find your thread?" I groan. "I'm not going to find your thread so I can get my phone back."

"I mean that Lorne, is a reason to get your phone back. So clean your room." Mom replies. After a few seconds, I finally stretch and stand up. Seeing that Mom has left leaving the door wide open, I take a deep breath.

My room is a mess. Boxes are spread across the floor, and piled along the wall. The mirror that was suppose to be hung by now, sits next to my door, along with several picture frames, and a corkboard with white ribbon strung across it in a crisscross pattern.

I begin by grabbing the nearest box, and ripping the tape off of the top. Inside, are clothes. I throw the clothes in the white dresser along the wall to the right of my bed. The next box is filled with odds and ends, such as snow globes and fancy wooden russian nesting dolls, that I sprawl across the top of my bookshelf neatly. Soon I'm halfway through my boxes, and my stomach growls eagerly.

I walk down the stairs, and grab a granola bar. I wash my face and finish my bar before brushing my teeth. Than I change into a pair of jean shorts and a yellow tank. I finish unpacking the third to last box, filled with books, and shelf them on my bookshelf. Than, feeling a little hot, I pull my hair into a high ponytail.

I find Dad's tools in the garage, and some nails. With Dad's permission, I go back upstairs with a level, a few nails, and a hammer. Using the level to make sure the mirror is level with the ground, I use a pencil to mark the right spot on the wall. Than, I hammer a nail into the wall, and set the mirror to hand on the wall. Satisfied, I return the tools and stick the pencil behind my ear.

I unpack the last box, and find Mom reading in the backyard. The sound of the lawnmower rumbles from the garage, before I see Dad coming around the side of the house perched in the mower.

"Hey Mom?" I ask, standing in front of the chair she sits in.
"Yes?" She turns a page in her book.

"I finished unpacking, so can I have my phone back now?" I ask. She ponders it for a moment, pursing her lips gently. She marks her page with a leaf on her lap, and sets her book on the armrest of her chair.

"I guess you can have it back, as long as you don't talk back to me. Or else I'll take it back." She reaches into her pocket, and retrieves my phone.

"Of coarse." I nod, my mouth practically drooling as I snatch my phone from her hands. Who knew that this little piece of metal and wire could be my life and soul? I thank her, and trot back inside, my eyes already glued to the screen. I unlock it with the numbers 2010, and the picture of Juniper and I smiling brightly at me makes my heart sink.

I haven't seen her in so long. I miss her so much.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I realize I have three new messages. I open them up. The first three are from Lorne, so I open them up. One is a picture of him and his mom in a small kitchen with light blue cupboards and white tiled floors. The next is a picture of the ocean, the waves crashing across the salt stained rocks. The last new text says,