Selena's POV
I opened my eyes. The sunlight bathed my skin as I lay on my side. I tried closing my eyes. What had happened yesterday was something I didn't want to think about today. Thoughts bit at my brain, forbidding me to go back to sleep. I was laying on my old but comfortable, double bed. Piles of clean washing had been knocked from the edge of my bed, onto the floor. My sheets looked crumpled and tangled. I sat up on my bed and searched for my pillow.
My room was the size of a prison cell. Creme coloured carpet and red walls (mostly covered with posters if my favourite bands). It wasn't the nicest smelling room.
Silver and black curtains. A black bedspread covered in pillows and cushions. The little, white heater had been graffitied with lyrics, lines of poetry, doodles and inspiring quotes.
On my desk, piled with everything from clothes to textbooks, holds a torn lamp and an alarm clock that I curse at every morning. Underneath it, was a paint splattered rubbish bin.
My school uniform lay on a spinning desk chair. Novels and poetry books that have honestly seen better days were scattered all over the place. There were shelves above the desk, one holding dozens of certificates and trophy a for various achievements.
My most treasured possession was propped up in the corner, a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar. The carpet was covered in an assortment of clothes, books, papers and rubbish. In the corner next to the door is a wide double-door wardrobe. On the door of the wardrobe were more posters and photos of family and friends.
I guess I liked it. It screamed a lot about my personality. One day I'd like a large, pretty, clean room. Just not now, I don't have the time to keep it that way.
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I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Wham! I stumbled backwards, ending up on my back on the tiles. I checked for what made me trip. A cardboard box. No, wait. A dozen boxes all spread across the kitchen floor. Each of the boxes were labeled differently. One said "Mugs and Glasses" in black vivid, another said "Plates and Bowls". It looked as of someone was packing up the kitchen into boxes.
"Mum?!" I yelled, "why are there boxes everywhere?"
"Were you wondering why Mike and Dylan came up to Auzzie?" She replied.
I had no idea how that would answer my question, but I answered anyway. "Uhh... Yeah, I was."
"Well, they came to help us move back to New Zealand," Mary answered.
I stood frozen, my bottom jaw hitting the floor. "We-we're moving?! And you didn't tell me!"
My mother gave me an apologising look with a sorry full smile. "I wanted us to have a fresh start, Rich-" she took a moment to repress her sadness, "Richard and I wanted to keep you safe."
"Safe?"
"Yes, safe."
"Safe from what?" I questioned curiously.
"Not safe from what, safe from who," she replied. Mary turned around so she was looking away from me. "I've said too much," she whispered biting her lip and tilting her head downwards.
"Tell me more," I ordered with a demanding tone in my voice.
She shook her head. "Look Selena, there are something's I can't tell you right now. It's for your own safety."
"You can trust me not to tell anyone, I'll be careful," I promised, "if you tell me I'll keep it to myself."
"I can't," Mary replied.
