Flooded Senses

1 - Hamilton High

It was a long drive down from Canton, Ohio. I'll miss that place and my friends. Especially my friends. I'll forever remember them, but who knows.... they'll probably forget me in a split second. Well in 30 minutes we'll reach our new home.

My dad is amazing when he's himself, don't get me wrong, but generally I resent him for this. It's his fault we're moving.

I've had my headphones in all car ride down to Nashville. Ignoring his expressive thoughts and highly opinionated comments, pretending I can't hear.

It's not until he shouts, "ANASTASIA MARIE COLLINS!" that I look up and take them out.

I wear a slightly annoyed yet frightened look which makes him ease up just a little. But he's still very tense about something. Determined to find out what it is, I answer.

"Yes ?"

"I just want to let you know that you're gonna really like the new house! It is very spacious, which I know you like."

"Oh dad, just stop please. It's your entire fault we're moving AND stop pretending like you know me. You don't. You don't know everything, certainly not about me. You never will."

At this, I turn around, plugging my earbuds back in.

Mum used to be the icebreaker whenever me and dad got into our arguments. It happened much more than you would think. It was mostly over stupid things like school homework or the presidential election or the crayon colour order.

sigh.

Man do I miss her. Just the thought of her brings me to the edge of tears.

When she would tuck me in -after dad left the room- she would always say, " It's okay sweetie, we all knew you were right and he was wrong. As long as you fight for what you strongly believe in, you'll always be right. Goodnight my sweet, love you bunches!"

God I miss her. I resent the man I call my father for this divorce. WHY TENNESSEE?!?!? Like seriously why couldn't we just move a town over?

Who knows.

I close my eyes. Although they're not shut for long as I'm jolted awake with my dad's screaming of, "ANA WE'RE HEREEEEEEE!!!"

I open my eyes wide and squint at the bright screen of my phone that reads 11:45 pm.

I ask, "Whoa dad. It's late, am I going to school tomorrow ?"

"Yes Ana," he replies with a stern, law-like enforcing voice.

"Jeez, okay. Guess that means no sleep for me , yay," obviously letting him know I'm being sarcastic.

Our stuff arrived a few hours ago and dad had paid extra to make them set it up the way he instructed them to so everything is in place which makes me a little more .... relieved I guess you could say. They nicely laid out a little book like thing full of colours and various shades of each different colour.

I set my backpack and duffle bag down to inspect the house.

I place my hand against the wall letting it trail behind me as I walk down the corridor, peeking in all the rooms which are very spacious and the hall flooring has a rich wood to it and a modern look to the walls and decorations.

Reluctantly I yell out to him, "I apologize for earlier. Your were right, I really do love it."

You're not trying to convince him you're trying to convince yourself Ana.

Impossible. Why would I want to convince myself?

Because of me.

"What did I tell you!!" he chuckles, "I knew you'd like it," he says, beaming with a smile, and laughs a little more.