Sitting on her knees in her black dress, she looked at the flowers placed in front of a gravestone. It read her little sister's name, Jasmine Hale, in big, bold letters. The cold wind that whipped her long, brown hair around sent a shiver down her spine. Her sister, only four, was gone too early. Jaclyn could understand everything happening, even at the age of seven. Jasmine's journey just happened to end.
Jaclyn was startled by her mother's voice,
"We should get going, darling," her usually joyful tone was absent, replaced by a sullen, quiet whisper. No one could blame her, of course. One of her daughters was killed by a stupid hit and run, how could she not be upset? She was just happy her other daughter, Jaclyn, was okay.
~~~~
"You have to go to school, Jaclyn, it's your first day of ninth grade." Her dad knew she was awake, but she didn't want to get up. Her dark grey bed sheets complimented her mood perfectly.
"Why? So I can complain about my teachers with my friends and then kill myself when I get home?"
Her dad took a moment to reply, "Precisely."
She sent him a side look before slowly getting up from her warm blankets.
~~~~
"We're moving," Of course we are, where now? "To New York."
"What?" Jaclyn looked up from the book she was reading. Her mother stood in the doorway of the living room, watching her close the hard covered book.
"We're moving to New York. Canada isn't providing us with what we need and your aunt and uncle are willing to help. We're going to live at their house with them." She explained. Jaclyn sighed.
"Aren't they the rich ones?" Jaclyn concealed her excitement. She has never lived in a big house. "That school will be filled with preppy bitches." Jaclyn muttered.
"Jaclyn! Don't have expectations. There will be a nice person for you to be friends with." Jaclyn could tell her mother didn't believe that. But she couldn't care much about friends. She didn't have any, anyway. In two years, she managed to lose contact with all of the friends she once had. Toronto was a bustling city with kids richer than her and she'd gotten used to the loneliness.
"So when do we start packing?"
"Well, we're leaving here during the last week of August, so that gives us two weeks starting today to pack." Her mother explained. And then the phone rang in the kitchen so she left to answer it.
☽
YOU ARE READING
young | book one
Teen Fiction"I'm not who you think I am." She said, her hands twisting in her lap. She lifted her head, her gentle blue eyes connecting with his emerald ones. He chuckled, "Then who are you?" When she spoke, he froze. ...
