I sat up and looked around my room. A pile of dirty clothes had formed in the corner but other than that, my floor was bare. There was a picture on my wall of me and my mom, the last one that had ever been taken before she had passed away. It was from my tenth birthday party and I couldn't help but notice that so much had changed in the past seven years. Next to it hung a larger picture of the Eiffel tower. My grandma had felt the need to put that there since after all, I was named after city of love.
Paris Embry. What kind of name was that? Paris was the place my parents had met and grew to hate each other. They would never have gotten married if it wasn't for me. My mother was pregnant with me before they had said their wedding vows so my whole life my father had blamed me for his unhappy marriage. He used to tell me that I was the reason that they never got divorced because my mom wanted me to have a normal childhood. I honestly believe I would be much happier now if they had never gotten married in the first place.
My dad had gone to jail almost seven years ago and was still there today. It's amazing he didn't get the death penalty. After all, he had killed my mother. I spent my middle school and most of my high school years living with my grandparents, moving from central California to the East Coast. After my grandfather passed away I was supposed to go live with a foster family but my grandmother said she still wanted to keep me. I lived with her for a year after my grandpa's death and then one day she just left.
My grandma was an adventurous woman for her age and it did not surprise me when I came home to find a note saying she had left. It didn't tell me where she went and it didn't tell me when or if she would ever come back.
I blinked several times and shook my head, trying to erase the memories from my mind. I slowly got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I grabbed my glasses and put them on, looking at myself in the mirror. I shrugged and picked up a comb off of the counter, dragging it through my dirty blonde hair. Putting in my contacts was a hassle as always. I went back into my room and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, nothing too fancy, there was no longer anyone that I felt the need to impress.
I stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing an apple on my way to the door. I made my way down the driveway, I didn't drive because there was no need. Florida weather was so nice, I never had to worry about buying jackets like I did in California. I don't remember my childhood to well, just that I didn't enjoy it.
As I turned onto the sidewalk, two people came out of the house across the street. Luke's old house. I tried to look away but I could still see the people from the corner of my eye as I opened my mailbox.
"Mom, stop. I don't need you here, I'm fine," The boy looked about my age. He had dark brown hair that he kept pushing out of his face.
"I know, I just don't like seeing my little boy moving out," the lady pushed his hair out of face and he shoved her arm away. The lady frowned. "Fine. I'll go. Just don't forget you have that appointment today."
With that the lady got in a car and drove off. I was still standing there, staring into an empty mail box. I closed it and turned around to find the boy across the street staring at me.
"Hi," He waved at me and put a fake smile on his lips.
I swear, I tried to smile back. I thought it out and did exactly what Mrs. Moore told me to do. I imagined myself saying the words, in my mind I could see exactly what I should do. I opened my mouth, and ran.
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