Familiar Faces (ON HOLD)

Familiar Faces

I remember the day that I left New York. It was mid-July, an ordinary day. I drove away form my house and smiled, hoping to never have to say hello to it ever again. I had learned fast that I was nothing special. It was the summer after seventh grade and I was beyond happy to be leaving. I had no friends, no one liked me and I would forever be alone. California seemed like a great new start. When dad dropped the bomb, telling me I had to go back, I examined myself. I was no longer the chubby overweight girl who was afraid to show hersefl. I no longer had shoulder length poop brown colored hair. I was no longer that ugly girl that no guy even looked in the same direction of. I looked hard at myself, and thought that it wasn't going to be so bad, because now I was flawless. All the workouts and no eating had finally paid off. I was skinny and beautiful. A few days ago I was dreading returning to that awful school. I remember hating practically everyone there. But maybe I could find a boyfriend, someone better than Johnny. I shuddered at his name, not wanting to ever think about him again. My room was empty and I said one last goodbye to it, knowing I would probably never be here again. 

The six hour plane ride was exhausting, but the sun warmed my face when I got off the plane at JFK airport. I adjusted my outfit and checked to make sure I hadn;t fogotten anything. Another perk of California, I had developed a sense of style. A girly-boho-hipster vibe always radiated from my outfits. I had had a job back in California, so I had money to buy tons of clothes. That's one thing I deffinitely wanted as soon as possible here, a job. But today I had put on a short close fitting sweater skirt with a tisked in black vintage tank top and a long gray sweater. I paired it with but flower earings and orange strappy sandals. Talk about making an entrance.

The house smelled exactly the same. The smell of mango tea had never left the cabinet's, probably because my mom had left a box in it. The truck with all of our stuff was going to be arriving shortly, so I went upstairs to inspect what I remembered of my room. I remember the high ceiling, the huge window overlooking the bay in the back, the wlak in closet off the back and the personal bathroom. It's like I had never left. The walls were painted pink from when I was last here, and I'm guessing my mom would not want ot paint it, so I had a few ideas in mind to make it fit my style. When the boxes arrived, I immediately started unpacking, starting with my closet first. I hung up every pieve of clothing and placed things in the built in drawer's along the wall. The familiar chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling radiating light. I arranged all my clothes my colors around the perimeter of the room and placed the shes by style. I had tond of heels, because I was a mere 5'3" and could afford to add a little height. 

The doorbell rang right as I was finishing and my mom called me downstairs. I gasped when I came to the front door and saw a way too familiar face staring back at me.

 

Author's Note:

Just started this story! I'm really excited about it! Please fan, vote and comment!!! I loveee feedbackk <3