Texas Tornado (Slow Updates)

CHAPTER ONE: THE MOVE

CHAPTER ONE: THE MOVE

                How many stuff do these people have?

                I've been hearing the same beeping sound coming out of the same moving truck for two straight days. They should've hired one more truck, or just bring less stuff because it is beginning to get ridiculous.

                The rumor has it that the family moving next door is originally from a small town in Texas. Moving to a big city like New York is going to be one big change that isn't going to be quite easy to get used to. I remember when I moved here when I was four years old. My dad got an awesome job offer and we moved from a small town in Florida to this huge metropolis.

                Even though this new family takes forever to move their stuff in, I am not particularly sad about new people moving in next door. My old neighbour was an arrogant, manwhore, ex-friend of mine.  He slept with half of the student population and the worst part of all that is that I was apart of that half.

                Anyways, every girl that has been fooled by him was happy, some even ecstatic, to hear that he was moving to Canada. I too was pleased to see that I wouldn't have to sleep right across from his bedroom window anymore. This way I couldn't see him bring different girls every week into his room.

                Now back to my neighbours. I have also learned that this new family has kids around my age. I am happy about that since the only kids my age I ever have around my neighbourhood is that sex crazed doofess that I used to call my neighbour. Pretty much all of the houses around us are occupied by elders or adults with younger children. When I was younger it was worst because my sister never wanted to play with me outside. She was constantly locked in her room. She always had some pretty strange behaviors. My parents and I stopped trying to understand her after a while because it was no use.

                Sorry, I tend to get a little off subject sometimes.

                Now, I have been trying to finish this 600 page book for English class all weekend since we have a test tomorrow morning, but I can't hear my little inside voice helping me read because of that stupid moving truck outside. In two days, I have only read 50 pages. So I am currently at page 58.

                Okay, so maybe if I had read the book in class instead of talking to my best friend Aubrey, I wouldn't have to be reading right now; I am such a big procrastinator, it isn't even funny. But my parents can never nag me about it, because I am the school's honor student.

                But this time, I think I am officially screwed. Why did the teacher have to choose a book that hasn't been adapted in a movie yet? I guess she's smarter than us. She knew we wouldn't have read the book.

                I finally give up on my hopes of finishing the book, and close it shut putting it on my lap. I have been sitting on my bed for two days and I can't feel my butt anymore. The only reason why I got up was to get food. My mom must think I'm suicidal or something, which I am not.

                I haven't even gotten off my bed to look at the family next door. This is unusual for me because I am usually curious about new things. In other words, I like to stick my nose where it doesn't belong.

                I have seen a couple of shadows getting in and out of the bedroom across from mine, but I haven't looked deeper into it than that.

                Now, since I have given up on finishing my book, I get up from my bed and head to my window. When I open the window, the beeping of the truck gets even louder and my patience becomes a little thinner. I am a patient person, but the glass of water is about to overflow, and that isn't going to be pretty to watch.