Strawberry Sweet

.From Homemade Movies to Diner With Strangers.

🍓Chapter One: From Homemade Movies to Diner With Strangers🍓

🍓Strawberry Sweet🍓

"Berry" I feel a nudge at my shoulder. I choose to ignore it.

"Berry, wake up" Ryan's voice rings through my head. I furrow my brows not wanting to get up. I was having such a good dream.

"Berry," he sighs. "Berry, please get up" I don't respond as I drift off into my once peaceful sleep. I feel the leather strap across my chest pull off of me after the clicking noise of the seatbelt. Then all at once, arms slide under my upper thighs and back and the green plastic cover book I was clutching drops to the ground. I'm too tired to care, so I simply let my brother carry me inside without a second thought about it.

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My heavy eyes flutter open. I'm in a room I don't recognize, with smells I don't recognize. Panic begins to seep into my veins and I prop myself up on the surface I am laying on.

I brush my white hair out of my face to see a dresser in the corner of the room. My dresser as a matter of fact. My white wicker dresser that matches the white wicker shelves I notice sit diagonal to it next to the bed I'm laying on.

I adore those dressers and shelves so much.

Relief floods through me as I realize that this must be my new room, which means we've arrived at the new house.

I throw the heavy blankets off of me and get off of the bed. When my feet hit the ground they come in contact with a soft, light surface.

I look down to see there is a carpet in my room.

It's a new feeling to come into contact with the carpet after a nap, my old room had a hardwood floor.

I walk across the room and I'm at a crossroads, my first option is to open the white door on my left, or... I could open the one on my right.

I choose the latter and open the door to my right. The door, it turns out, leads into a walk-in the closet no bigger then a closet should be. Becoming completely uninterested I open the door to my left. The room is just a normal bathroom. Simple, cute, and normal. I walk out of my bedroom and downstairs.

"Dad?" I call out. I've seen the bottom half of this house before, so it's no surprise when I walk into the kitchen. The boys aren't there.

"Ry?" I yell hoping to gain their attention. Still no answer. But that's when I hear faint noises coming from the living room, and what sounds like children's laughter. Slowly I look around the corner of the wall that separates the dining room from the living room.

"Daddy, look I'm gonna do a flip, watch!" The tv shouts in the sound of a small child. My dad is watching home videos.

I remember that day. Ryan, my mother, father and I went to the beech for my sixth birthday. The little six years old me stands with her hands in the air, her stomach stretched out and on her tippy toes like she's just done a backflip.

I used to be so proud of myself. That was the year I learned to do a cartwheel and a summersault.

"Good job baby!" My mother shouts with admiration as my father laughs behind the camera, the frame shaking slightly.