The Scars Within

The New Neighbors

Once again, I get ready for school. I used to enjoy going, but now it feels like a chore. It's amazing how fast one's views can change. Trudging my way downstairs, I'm surprised to see Dad isn't waiting for me. Looking at the kitchen table, I see a note. Walking over and picking it up, I read it.

'Hey Bub. I wanted to let you know that I won't be home until Monday. I have some business to take care of in another town, but I'll be sure to come home as soon as I can. Have fun at school today, and feel free to take the car for a drive this weekend. I love you Bub. I'll see you when I get back.'

Love,

Dad

Hah. Yea right. Now you're acting like everything's normal? 'Have fun at school today.' What a load of bull. How am I supposed to have fun when everyone thinks I'm a slut and hates me? Good thinking, Dad, you deserve a round of applause. Sighing, I crumple up the note, and throw it into the garbage. After eating some cereal, I head outside. Once I close the door behind me, I notice that it's starting to get colder. I'm happy about that. It means that we'll have snow soon enough. Shaking my head, I head towards school.

Just as I thought, today was worse than yesterday. The whispers continued, but I could care less about that. What got to me was the fact that someone put a destroyed toy car in my locker with 'Murderer' written on it. Seriously? Of course, I threw it away, but every time I came back to my locker there was another one. A couple of times there was also a barbie doll with 'Slut' or 'Whore' written on it. Add that in with the constant whispers, stares, and even a few call-outs, I was about ready to cry by the time the day was over. I guess that shows you the true nature of teens. They love you one minute, but the moment one bad rumor starts to spread they turn. I'm pretty sure I saw a few teachers whispering about me as well. So much for 'We want you to feel safe in school.' I'm so glad I finished all of my work during Study Hall. I run to my locker, throw everything inside, then run home.

By the time I get home, tears are streaming down my face. Slamming the door shut, I run up to my room and collapse on the bed. Time seemed to slow down as I laid there and cried. All the emotions that I tried to suppress went rushing through me at once. The sadness, the anger, the grief, the stress, everything. I don't know how long I laid there, but it was definitely past dinner time when I finally ran out of tears. After having some pizza for dinner, I spend the rest of the night watching movies. I don't know exactly when, but I end up falling asleep on the couch.

I'm awakened by the sound of a loud diesel engine outside. Rubbing my eyes, I walk over to the window and see a moving truck parked in front of the neighbor's house. 'Hmm. I guess Ricca's stuff is here.' Pausing for a second, I think 'Maybe I should see if they need help unpacking. Hopefully it'll help take my mind off things.' After getting changed and eating a quick breakfast, I head outside. The light from the sun shocks me for a second, and I realise just how long I was asleep. Blinking a couple of times, I make my way over to the moving truck, where I see Ricca is lifting a couple of boxes.

"Hey Ricca!" I call out. She turns her head towards me and smiles.

"Hiya Carmin. How's it going?"

"I'm doing good, thanks. I was wondering if you needed any help with the boxes. I'm free today so I would be happy to help." She seems a little surprised by this, and blinks a few times. Then, she smiles once again.

"Yea, that would be great, thanks. Could you grab that box over there for me?" She nods her head towards a medium sized box with 'Ricca's' written on the side. Walking over to said box, I quickly lift it. "Great, follow me." We walk into the house, me following behind Ricca. As we walk, I take a couple of moments to take in my surroundings. I didn't particularly like our last neighbors, so I was never inside the house. It's about the same size as mine, but for some reason it seems more like a home than mine. Pictures and paintings line the walls, the house is still fairly open, probably because they don't have all of their furniture inside yet, and the color scheme is very bright. We continue our walk upstairs, where Ricca leads me into what seems to be a bedroom. "You can just set that box wherever." She tells me. Setting the boxes down, I take a glance around the room. It's pretty barren, but I'm sure that'll change when they get settled in.

"Hey, looks like your room is right across from mine." I say, looking out the window. I can easily see the end of my bed, the bookshelf, and the doors to my closet and bathroom.

"Really?" Ricca asks, coming to stand next to me by the window. "Would ya look at that. Guess we'll be able to have chats whenever we want, eh?" She says with a smile. Laughing, I'm about to reply when a voice calls out through the house.

"Ricca! Could you come help with this please?"

"Oh, that's my Dad. C'mon, I'll introduce you." Following Ricca back downstairs, I see a fairly tall man, probably around 6' 2" with dark brown hair, and even darker brown eyes. He has broad shoulders, and is obviously very strong. Add the stubble on his face, the flannel shirt, and torn jeans, he looks very intimidating. He's holding up one end of a pretty large couch, so Ricca and I move towards the other end and lift it up. Together, all three of us move the couch into the living room.

"Thanks for the help girls." He then turns towards me and holds out his hand. "My name is Quentin. I'm Ricca's father." Shaking his hand, I notice that he has a fairly strong French accent, but it doesn't affect his English.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Carmin Harley, I live next door." I reply with a small smile. "I noticed the moving truck outside and I offered to help Ricca move some things."

"Thank you for your help then. Ricca has a lot of things so I'm sure she could use the help."

"I don't have that much stuff Dad!" Ricca whines, hitting her Dad on the arm. He chuckles in response, then goes to grab more boxes. "C'mon Carmin, there's only a few more boxes of mine in the truck." Nearly three hours later, everything is out of the truck and in its specific room. During this time, I met Ricca's mother, Adeline. She's taller than me, about 5' 8" I would say, with long, dirty blond hair, and piercing green eyes. Surprisingly, she doesn't have any hint of a French accent at all. Ricca herself barely has one. 'I wonder why.' Going back up to Ricca's room, I start to help her unpack her boxes.