Jeez! If I never started high school, I wouldn't have such a case of depression. If you can't handle what you're about to read then I advise you to stop where you're at. You've been warned.
This is how it all started.
My mom, dad, and I just moved in from New York to Greenwoods in Hollywood . "Why did we have to leave New York? We had a better life," I said.
"I already told you that we had to move; things were getting too violent and we have better paying jobs here, too. Right hunny?" said Dad.
"Yes dear," said mom. I sighed. They never asked how I feel or ask for my opinion about stuff.
We drove to our house and it was big. I wasn't surprised because my family is rich due to my parents having better paying jobs. Nothing new.
We pulled up into the driveway. "Dad can I have the keys to the house?" I asked.
"Affirmative," said Dad, who handed me the door keys. I unlocked the doors and entered. I gasped and saw that our stuff has already been move into the house by movers. That means I have to customize my room, AGAIN. But, it won't matter because by the time I get comfortable here that's when we will move again.
I went upstairs and looked for my room. There's SO many rooms. It's like a maze for the clueless. Atfer 5 minutes of wondering cluelessly around the house, I finally found my room and it looked nice, but the same.
