Hell Isn't Even Hot

Grass is Too Mainstream

"This is the one!" My dad exclaimed, seeming content with the house. Just like all the ones around it, it was a two story, tan nightmare. Okay, maybe not a nightmare, it wasn't ghetto or anything, just way too much like all the other houses.

"There's grass?!" Trancy squealed, and jumped out of the car, as if she were a rabbit on LSD, or something in that general area. I climbed out reluctantly, and looked around at my new neighborhood.

It was all way too similar, the houses, the SUVs in the driveway, they all seemed the same. It was all too much, and I sank to my knees in that way-beyond-mainstream grass.

"Jensen?" I heard my mom say,"Are you okay, honey?"

"Yeah." I whispered, put my hands in the grass, and tried to think of a justification for my actions,"I just.. I'm thrilled to have grass in our yard, I mean, we didn't have this back in Phoenix."

I heard my mom chuckle,"Okay, whenever you are done marveling over the grass, you can help us start moving stuff in."

The thing was that I never wanted to be done looking at that stupid ass shit they call grass, I didn't want to go to a new school, live in a new house, I didn't want any of this. I tried to calm myself, and closed my eyes, I even let my fingers dig a little bit into the dirt below me. Yet for whatever reason, it wasn't working, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that I was in Hell.

Eventually, I couldn't tell you if it was 2 or 20 minutes later, I stood up, and swallowed my pride. The moving truck had arrived with all the shit that makes a home a home, and my family had started to unload it. Well, at least Mom and Dad, Trancy was too busy making grass angels and being a child to help.

I walked inside, and looked around, surrounded by white washed walls and light wood floors. Then, I walked back outside, as the inside was suffocating. I sat back down in that damn grass, and pulled out my phone, flopping back and looking at Instagram.

"How about you help us instead of sitting on that phone of yours?" Dad called to me.

I sighed, and got back up. He wanted me to help? Well I knew of one container I could carry. I made my way through the moving truck, scanning around. When I found the large purple plastic tub labeled 'Jensen's Art Supplies', I picked it up, and staggered inside. I made my way up the stairs and into what would presumably be my bedroom.

With a thud, I dropped the container to the floor. Then, I sat down and drew like my life depended on it, and maybe it did.

{I'm sorry that this chapter was short, I'll try to make them longer, but it's easier for me to write like this.}