Chapter 1:
Sunflowers. She had always loved sunflowers. She would grow them in the left corner of our backyard in an 8 x 8 space. The yellow-orange color of the flower matched the color of our kitchen walls. She liked the make a room feel warm and welcoming. But she could do it without the sunflowers and warm wall colors. She was someone I looked up too. Actually she was someone I still look up too.I mean she was (or is) my mother after all.
It was a tragic car accident, a hit-and-run. Her car was rear-ended down into a ditch. Doctors say she was most likely killed as soon as the car landed in the ditch. Investigators say there's no proof of whether or not it was an accident or on purpose.
At first I refused to believe it. One moment she was here and the next she was gone. She was alive when I went to dance class that day and the next time I saw her, she was dead. Sometimes I look at the name on the headstone and pretend it's someone else who coincidently has the same name as my mom. Reality always has its way to show you the cold hard truth though.
So here I am. 2 years later. 17 years old and half-way through my senior year, spending my last high school winter break at my mothers grave.
Sighing and shivering from the cold winter winds, I started to make my way out of the cemetary. I have found myself spending a lot of time here, whether its reminiscing memories or blaming myself for her death. Either way, I shouldn't be spending every free second of my life here.
I took one last glance at the headstone and the bright yellow sunflowers lying on the ground beside it. They were alive now but I knew when I came back next, they would be dead.
Ironic, isn't it?
I finally turned around and started my walk home. Snow was lightly falling to the already snow-covered ground. There was something about snow that I always found bittersweet. I love how it looks but I hate how it feels. I was never one of those kids who would run outside in their snowgear to build a snowman or have a snowball fight. It just wasn't my kind of thing. I prefer sunkissed skin and shorts over 50 pound jackets and UGG boots. Even though snowboarding is a big passion of mine, I could never truly love the snow.
The walk to my neighborhood went by much faster than I expected it to. The sun was just setting behind the grey clouds and night was slowly starting to sink in. Christmas lights were set up at every house on the street, well, except for mine. Christmas was my mom's favorite holiday. You know that holiday where your mom just goes crazy dcorating for? That holiday was Christmas for my mom. Ever since she's passed, my step-dad, Eric, has refused to decorate. Hell, I had to beg for weeks just to get him to let me put up the christmas tree.
You see, Eric was never very fond of me. Actually, I'm pretty sure he hates me. I know for a fact that he never loved my mom. He just wanted all her money, which he cleaarly got. Before my mom married him, I tried to persuade her out of it and warn her about him. She just thought I was over-reacting and just wasn't used to change. I was also only 13, so I'm assuming that played a big factor in her mind.
"Just give it some time. You'll learn to love him as much as I do," she would say, while giving me her perfect, reassuring smile and sympathetic eyes.
When Mom looked at Eric, her eyes were filled with love. She was clearly so blindsided by his "charming" looks. Eric also had a way with words to make it seem like he's the sweetest guy on the planet. Except, when Eric looked at my mom, his pupils had money signs on them.
Now that Mom is gone, I'm stuck living with the step-monster who would get rid of me if he could. Sometimes I wonder why he's kept me around. I dreaded everytime I had to come home and face him. Not that I saw him a lot though. He's always locked in his office doing "work" that I can't know about. Sometimes I pretend he's buying my Christmas presents, but then I remember he hates me.
The warmth of the house rushed over me as soon as I opened the front door. I kicked the heels of my boots together, knocking off any snow that was still sticking. The air was filled with the scent of cinnamon, probably from one of my mom's old candles. I savored the moment before realizing that Eric never, and I mean never lights candles. That's when I noticed the house was unusually clean. Spotless. This doesn't just happen with Eric. Before I had the time to debate why Eric had done this, I heard a women's loud giggle come from the kitchen.
I curiously rushed forward and through the swinging doors into the lively colored kithen. A woman, probably 15 years younger than Eric, sat at a bar stool across the kitchen. She had overly bleached hair, a fake tan, and bright red lipstick on. I mentally decided to call her Barbie.
Eric was standing across from her mixing some sort of concoction together while laughing with Barbie.
"So Eric, I was wodering if you wanted-," She begin but I interrupted before she could finish.
"Um.. Hi. I'm home." Both heads turned towards me in sync, clearly oblivious to the fact that I was in the room. Eric's smiled had faded and he glared at me. Probably for interruping his "little moment."
Everything went awkwardly silent for a few seconds until I slowly made my way across the room and stuck my hadn out towards Barbie.
"Hi, I'm Mindy, Eric's step-daughter," I fake smiled while she hesitantly shook my hand.
"And she was just leaving, weren't you?" Eric's rudley stated. He was clearly annoyed but also had a fake smile on his face. His black hair was neatly styled and you could probably smell his cologne from a mile away. A calm expression stayed on his face bt I could see the veins in his neck popping out. If this wre a cartoon, steam would be flying out of his ears while his face turned beat red.
"Yes, I was. Sorry to interrupt." I turned around and quickly fled from the kitchen and through the swinging doors. I was out of their sight but I eaned against the hallway wall, still in hearing distance of the conversation.
It was quiet for about 30 seconds before Eric finally spoke up.
"I'm sorry about her. I didn't know she was going to be here," Eric sounds kind of desperate to get his point across. "She's always in the way and constantly interrupts my work."
"I thought you said you didn't have any kids," Barbie snapped.
"Technically she isn't mine. She's my dead ex-wife's only child. But she'll be gone by May anyways so there's no point in even getting to know her."
Both the adults start laughing like they just said the funniest thing ever.
I roll my eyes at the statement not even surprised that he would kick me out as soon as I turned 18 and graduated. I don't know what's so funny though but whatever. I head up to my room where sleeps finds me as soon as I lay in my bed.
YOU ARE READING
Million Dollar Murder
Gizem / Gerilim17-year-old Mindy was not expecting her life to take a sharp twist after her mother died. She was stuck living with her step dad, a man of many crimes in which she was oblivious of. But finding out she was the target in his next crime, she has to ma...