Flashy

01

"WHY DAD?! Why?" For the past two hours we've been in this moving truck I've been complaining and whining about all of this and my voice has started to get scratchy. "Why'd we have to move again? I actually had friends in Woodenville!" He sighs for the tenth time and I can't blame him. When it comes to annoying my parents, I'm a natural. And by friends, I meant control freaks who used me as their servant. All I wanted to do was annoy the hell out of him.

"We've been over this for a hundred times! It's not my fault you can't watch over your powers. Even if we'd stayed there, you'd be known as a freak." Ouch. That one stung. I sank lower and lower in my seat knowing what he said was true. For the past seventeen years of my life, we've moved fifteen--sixteen  times including this one.

"It's not my fault you never taught me how I'm supposed to use it." I mutter resting my head against the glass window. Knowing we'd move again, and again I've had one plan during every move--DON'T GET TOO ATTACHED. It's never worked though. A week later I'd get back to having tons of friends (not trying to brag) and then a month later we'd move. The stupid plan was useless.

"We're here. You can stop whining now." I sit up in my seat and examine the house in front of me. It's a two story bungalow painted olive green.

"Yay," please note my sarcasm. "Is mom already here?" I hop out of the moving truck. To answer my question I suddenly see a woman standing on the front porch of the house waving her hand back and forth and hopping up and down like a madwoman. "Never mind."

She runs towards me and envelops me in a hug. "You'll love it here trust me," not the first time I've heard that.

"I'll be the judge of that."
-------

"Mom come look at this," I'm standing in the middle of my room, which isn't really a room--it's the attic. And on one of the walls the most touching quote I've ever read is stuck on one of the walls. Something that would change your whole perspective of moving over, and over again.

One day, it will be your turn. You will leave homes, cities and countries to pursue grander ambitions. You will leave friends, lovers, and possibilities for the chance to roam the world and make deeper connections. You will defy your fear of change, hold your head high and do what you once thought was unthinkable: walk away. And it will be scary. At first. But what I' hope you'll find in the end is that in leaving, you don't just find love, adventure and freedom. More than anything, you will find yourself.

"Wow, that's wow." A voice says from behind me making me jump.

"Sheesh you scared me," she laughed.

"So, do you still hate moving Blake?" I thought it over, the only reason I hated moving was because I leave friends behind. And I miss them. I really do. But when you think about it, so many people would want the life I have: superpowers and seeing things others dream of seeing. But it still won't be a dream come true.

"Yes. Yes I do." The sound of an unfamiliar doorbell makes me jump again.

"Well aren't you a bit jumpy today?" I roll my eyes.

"Just go get the door Iris."

"Just don't call me by my first name Blake." I follow her down the stairs but don't go down all the way. She opens the door to some kid that looks about my age with a basket of muffins in one hand.

So ironic ain't it?

I didn't think this neighborhood would be that kind of one.

"Hi, I live next door. My mom said to bring these over." He held out the basket of muffins.
Of course she did.

"Oh. Tell her I said thanks." He answered with a mmmmhmmm. And then left.

She closed the door and actually brought a muffin to her lips. "Ewww mom your actually going to eat that?!" I yell. She hates muffins. Absolutely abhors them. She drops it back into the basket before it touches her teeth.

"Gross, ew never mind. What are we supposed to do with these?" I wave the question off.

"Leave em for your muffin lovin husband,"

"What?" My dad asks from behind us leaning against the kitchen island.

"Oh hey dad," I say before throwing a muffin in his face as fast as I can and it ends up being stuffed in his mouth.

"Looks like your a bit rusty, eh Allen?" Mom snickers. He tries to say something but it sounds like, "mmffmmmffm." He finally takes the muffin out of his mouth and pouts.

"It's not funny!"

"Yes it is,"

"No it's not,"

"You like it here now, don't you Blake?" I snort and cross my arms over my chest.

"No I don't," I lie. "I haven't even gone to school yet."

"Well then good luck tomorrow," I stick my tongue out in her face before running back upstairs to my "room."

But I didn't know I was gonna to need it.