Alexandria's Genesis (gxg)

"Meet your new best friend,"

"Finally," my dad sighed, relief flooding his features as we pulled up to a "cute" little two-story house. I raised my brows, taking in the serene aura that this town, (more precisely, this neighborhood) just seemed to be oozing. You'd think the calm atmosphere would make things easier, but it was actually really creepy.

As if sensing my distrust, my mom turned around in her seat, offering me a weak smile before speaking, "Don't worry, honey. This is exactly what we need. A fresh start. A new beginning! I know it's going to be hard, but please, you have to trust that this move is for the best." My mom's lower lip began to tremble towards the end of her little speech, and I couldn't help but wonder yet again, if any of this was for me. It seemed way more likely that my parents had done this for themselves, and the only reason I was actually here was because they had no choice but to take me.

I bet that if I mentioned being uncomfortable here, or intimidated, they would take my opinion with a grain of salt. Even before things went bad, they never really listened to me. They've only ever had eyes for each other.
And your brother, a voice in my head whispered.
You know, I'm really starting to hate this place. We haven't even been here an hour and already, I had cried, been visually assaulted by a goddess, and now, I was hearing voices.

Great.

"Kelsea? Come one, you can go pick out your room now," my dad opened my door, gesturing for me to get out. He watched me anxiously as I stepped out, probably because in his eyes I was still, as one of our many family therapist liked to put it, unstable.

I already knew which bedroom was going to be mine, which he'd clearly forgotten. We had found our house online last week, allowing me to get a description of all the rooms, as well as pictures. We'd already pre-set it. I headed inside, and found my room, which was conveniently placed upstairs, in between a bathroom and my new art studio. I stopped in front of my studio, wondering if I should get settled in my bedroom first, or check it out. It was one of the only rooms in the entire house, (besides the kitchen and my own bedroom) that was all set up and ready to go. My dad had sent movers this past week to set it up, so I would have something to look forward to. Art was probably the only reason I was moving forward at all. It's the only way I can express myself without having to speak a single word. I had adopted it fully as my new language, since I refused to talk in any other way. If words are dangerous, my drawing are lethal. They say more than I want anyone to ever know. It was almost as if my soul's outlet was my art. I have drawn and painted some things so full of pain, so full of pure, raw emotion, even I found it hard to look at them after they were completed. Like my feelings, I locked away all of my finished pieces, keeping them in a safe I normally would've used to hide money and valuables in. That safe has become an exact replica of my heart- dark, secretive, and hidden.

I hesitantly pushed open the door, and instantly gasped. Right in the middle of the room, surrounded by several overturned potter's wheels and canvases, there was a massive, chocolate brown Great Dane.

Oh my God. It's going to eat me.

I started to back away, but before I had even set my foot down again, the Dane pounced on me, sending me crashing down on the floor. I struggled with the dog, who seemed intent on keeping me pinned down. Finally, I slipped out from under it, and bolted for the stairs. I could hear claws on the floor boards, and they seemed to be following.

And getting closer.

I ran out my front door towards my parents, who were too caught up in examining the flowers in the garden to notice my life was in imminent danger.

"DAD!" I screamed, running up to him and hiding behind him. "IT'S GOING TO KILL ME!"

Now aware of their surroundings, my parents looked at me, and seemed taken back by the look of pure terror I was sure was written clearly across my face. My dad noticed the beast and nudged my mom, who began to laugh wholeheartedly. I stepped away from them, scared and a little worried for their sanity.

"Kels, meet your new best friend, Wiley," my dad introduced, suddenly looking very proud of himself.

I stared at them in disbelief. A dog? Of all the things they could've gotten me, like a car, or a TV, it just had to be a dog.

"We know you had to...leave behind a lot...of friends, and we know how hard it is to make new ones, so we thought we'd give you a head start, since school doesn't start for another 3 weeks," my mom carefully chose her words. As an afterthought, she added, "Do you...not like him?"

My parents both stared at me hopefully, desperately wanting me to approve of the surprise gift. I cast my eyes down to the "surprise gift," who also seemed to be giving me a hopeful look. Sighing, I kneeled down in front of Wiley, who licked my face in excitement. I half-smiled, rubbing his enormous head.

"Well, I've always want a dog..." I offered, relieved to see my parents looked satisfied. I looked back down at my newfound buddy, musing over how much had changed in such little time.

You, my friend, are number one on the unexpected events list.