My name is Lilly Anne Martin. I'm sixteen years old.
A few months ago, my parents died in a terrible car accident. I was at home and my parents were out having dinner. But they had been gone for two hours, and I was starting to get worried. I tried contacting them on their cell phones, but neither of them answered. At this point, I was pacing back and forth across the room, desperately waiting for a response. Then, the home phone rang. I ran and answered it immediately. But it wasn't my mom or dad. It was an unfamiliar voice I hadn't recognized. Then, they told me what happened. My dad was driving, the front left tire had suddenly burst, and he lost control of the wheel and ended up doing a few barrel rolls down the highway. They were both dead instantly.
I didn't want to hear any more. I had heard enough.
There were many people wanting to put me in a foster care. But my grandparents didn't want that, and they decided to take custody of me. I live out on their farm, about fifty miles away from Dallas, Texas, the city I lived in when my parents were alive.
My first thoughts were, "I'm not sure if I'm going to like this sudden change. I'm so used to the big city, and now I'm moving to a farm. I'm not going to see my friends any more, I won't be going to public high school anymore, and I'm not going to be able to go to the mall on a regular basis now."
Forget about the mall, and public high school, the only thing I cared about is my friends. I'm probably not going to see them for a while, because we live about an hour away from the city.
Before I had officially "moved" into my grandparents' house, we took everything out of my old house and shoved it into the back of a u-haul and then we were on our way. The trip took no more than an hour and fifteen minutes.
When we had pulled up to my grandparents' farm, I didn't recognize it. It's because I'd never been there before. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving, my grandparents would come up to visit my family, so we wouldn't have to come out to the farm.
And, the farm, as a matter of fact, was absolutely beautiful, and quite large. I had spotted two gardens and stable, and inside the stable I seen four horses, two brown, one black, and one white. There were goats, as well, and cows among the rolling hills that were also part of my grandparents' property.
I was lead up to my room, and, it was small. Smaller than my usual room. All it had was a twin-sized bed, a dresser and closet, and a desk for who knows what. I unpacked all of my clothes, which took a while because I had plenty of garments. It consisted of mostly mini skirts, blouses, and tank tops. And my shoes, flats and high heels, went right along with my clothes. I was the girly type, no doubt.
After getting settled in, my grandma decided to take me back out to the city so we could shop for some "appropriate" clothes to wear. We bought at least ten pairs of jeans for me, a few tee-shirts - that were far less expensive than my tops - and two pairs of shoes, tennis shoes and cowgirl boots.
When we got back to her place, grandpa joined us in the living room to discuss some rules of the house.
Rule number one - No sleeping in past nine, bed no later than eleven o'clock.
Rule number two - No electronics or electronic devices in my room. I understood this, because the only electronic things in the house is a small TV in the living room and an old computer that probably doesn't even work anymore.
Rule number three - Always tell one grandparent where you're going if you go outside of the house.
And, finally, rule number four, the one I thought I could never obey - Absolutely no makeup. I was used to putting it on every day, it would be hard to get used to not covering my face with it.
The first day of living with my grandparents was okay, it could have been better.
And that is what my life is now. I turned into a farm girl after being a city girl all my life.
