Bellman Tower

Chapter One

I crane my neck out of the car to see the large house. It's made of stone and has relatively large grounds surrounding it. Holding everything in is a high security wall, not that my aunt and uncle need to be secure. They just like to feel that way, is all. They've always been a little weird about safety and security.

And now they're going to be my guardians.

I remember the car crash, two weeks ago. So much blood. My Mom, my Dad. Reaching out in a last attempt to hold each other's hand.Their hearts beating their last just before they could reach each other. Me, a few hundred yards away, unconscious. It's apparently a miracle I escaped the car crash 'unscathed'.

But I didn't escape fully unscathed. No, that car crash tore me apart. It took my parents away from me, my entire life away from me. I no longer recognise the person standing in front of me when I look in the mirror. I see the wild and often-unkempt waves of chocolate brown hair, I see the bluey-green colour of her eyes, a nose with a tip that curves upwards ever so slightly and pink lips set in a straight, non-smiling line.

The car rolls to a stop and I clamber out. The wrought iron gates swing open automatically and my aunt and uncle rush out and give me consoling hugs. As if a hug will help after what's happened. "Are you okay?" Aunt asks, her eyes bloodshot. Aunt Delilah is Dad's younger sister. I nod silently and then pick up my luggage. "No need, Nikki." Uncle Harry takes the luggage from me, "I'll carry them. You don't need to strain yourself."

We trudge silently up the gravel walkway and into the house. The room we enter is spacious and homely, with mahogany walls and cream furniture. I perch on the edge of the sofa and look down at my clasped hands. Someone sighs; not me, one of them. "I know all of this is very sudden for you, Nikki." Aunt tells me, "You hardly know the two of us and now, you're going to be spending the rest of your life with us. You just lost your parents and that's hard. That's very hard, especially for someone who is as young as you are."

Sixteen. Too young to lose my parents. They didn't even get to see me dressed up for prom. I ended up not going to my prom. "We just want to make you feel at home here." Uncle cuts in for his wife, "You're a part of the family now. You belong with us. We don't want you to feel out of place here. This is your home."

"Why don't you say something?" Aunt asks a little too hysterically, "You know, like tell us about your likes, dislikes, what you do in spare time..." Aunt looks at Uncle a little worriedly, wringing her hands.

"I don't really do anything any more." I reply to that, because it's the truth. I don't do anything anymore, ever since mom and dad's death.

"Okay..." Aunt trails off, "Well, what did you do before then?"

"I..." I think for a moment, "I liked art. Sketching. Drawing. I liked spending time with my friends. I liked cooking when I was in the mood. But I spent most of my time drawing." I say all of this in a monotone because none of it matters any more. Not now I don't have anyone to share it with. I'm out in the middle of nowhere in the state of Michigan, with two people I don't even know. Can life get any worse?

"Why don't I show you your room? It's been a long journey. You must be tired." Aunt breaks me out of my little reverie.

My room is bright and airy. It has floaty white curtains, silk bed spreads, oak furniture and it's own bathroom. I glance around it, my luggage dumped on the deep carpet, the only thing familiar in this alien place. I go over to the bed and sit down. It sinks beneath my weight. I put my hands in my head, sighing.

What has become of my life? I feel so helpless. My carefree, enjoyable life has flipped into a miserable, depressive burden I am forced to carry. I take out the most important object in my bag. It's a photo of mom, dad and me. A proper studio one. We're all smiling brightly at the camera, looking as if life couldn't be more perfect. I remember that day. It was one of the best in my life. We spent the whole day lounging around. Dad was acting the immature fool as usual, Mom the one trying to knock some sense into him and me just rolling around the floor laughing.