Deaming in blue

1: "This is it."

I take in a deep breath, looking up at my new, permanent home. It was nice, big, probably very old but didn't look like it from just one look. "This is it." I mumble under my breath, hoping that they didn't hear me.

Me and my family were always moving because of my fathers job. We lived in this state one month, a different one the next. They didn't care about how it made me feel at all, simply because I was the only child that they had and I was pretty much their little accident. I was always having to make new friends, just to leave them behind a month or two later, but I would never forget them. That's why I got good at shutting people out, maybe even too good at it.

Now we were back in my hometown, somewhere I hadn't been since I was two years old. Fourteen years ago we had lived here in this very same house, where my grandmother currently lives now, and its where I'm going to be living until I go off to college. I wasn't going to like it very much, being away from my parents and all, but it was better than moving all the time and being ignored, like normal.

"I've got your bedroom ready Honey." My grandma smiles at me, rubbing my back softly as I picked my bags up once again and walked up to my new, yet old room. I didn't have many things with me. I didn't own much anyway. Maybe eight or nine outfits, three sweatshirts and hoodies, my sneakers and my boots, which were on my feet at the moment. I also had my hair products and crap, but that was it.

I sigh to myself, looking at the bright white walls of my bedroom, hearing someone come in behind me ans sit down beside of me on the edge of the bed. "We uh... We have to go catch the plane, but we will call you as soon as we reach Paris." My mother smiles slightly, a tired smile.

My mother really did not want to go off to another country with my father once again. All she really wanted to do was settle down in a cozy home and actually enjoy life. Instead she was always out, on the move. Always packing up and unpacking her things and making flights. She never had time to do anything else really. She has missed the best years of her life, mine too, running around with my father. But he made good money, being the CEO of a big company and I think that is a big part of the reason she won't leave him. Wherever he was needed, he would go, always taking us with him.

"You really don't have to go with him, stay here, with me and Gram." I tell her, looking her into her blue eyes with a silent plea. Moving from state to state, country to country was making her tired, sick almost. Was it possible for someone to literally get home sick from moving place to place and longing for an actual home? If so, then that is what was happening to my poor, poor mother. I just didn't see how she stayed so strong all the time, I could never walk a day in her shoes.

I hear my father honking the car horn at my mother, basically telling her that it was time for them to go back to the airport. He didn't even come into the house to see if everything was going to be alright here, or to hug me and tell me goodbye. He is such a- the car horn cuts me off once again, bringing me back to reality and making me give my mother a small smile as she wraps me up in her frail arms.

"Bye mom." I mumble, pulling back away from her and seeing the tears that were starting to fill her eyes and it hurt, deep down inside, it hurt knowing that my father was practically tearing this family apart at the seams all for his job, and he didn't even care about it. I bet if he lost us, it wouldn't phase him one bit.

My mother wipes at her eyes, giving me another one of her fake smiles, "I love you sweetheart."