Aria

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     I'm still shocked about what I did a few months ago. I think and dream about it every night. I'd do anything to get my mind off of it. It's over and done with. STOP STOP STOP! STOP THINKING ABOUT IT ARIA! I'm driving myself crazy! I get up and look out of the window. It's a rainy cloudy day in Orlando, Florida. Funny because that's how I'm feeling. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I don't bother wiping it away. I'm pretty weak as it is. I need to start eating more. Ever since that day I've been pretty  much starving myself. I try to eat but I'm just not hungry.
        "Oh I see you're up early, Aria," mother says. My mom is a cop at the local police station. She knows about the incident too.  She's willing to take one for the team and risk loosing her job. What about my dad you may ask? Well I don't know what he's doing. I haven't saw him since my parents divorced. That was four years ago. Once he walked out I haven't saw him since. Not for birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and no other holiday. I guess that's where my life turned around at. "Yep," I replied barely above a whisper. "Well then, I need you to help me pack. We're moving!," she said. Her sentence intrigued me. I turned around and faced her. "Where to?" "Sunny Palms, Kentucky!" I raised an eyebrow and faced the window again. I was enthused about the idea of moving and starting fresh, but I wanted to move far away from here. Like the other side of the US far away. "What about your job," I said still facing the window. "Don't worry about me. I'm sure that Sunny Palms has a police station!," she answered. She handed me a large box to put my stuff in. Then she turned and left. I sometimes wonder how she doesn't get mad or irritated with me. Maybe because she knows I have dirt on her too.

      I get up from my bed and walk to the bathroom to take a shower. Once in, I start to think about the incident. I quickly shake my head and think about Sunny Palms. Right now we stay in a one story two bedroom house. According to my mother, we are upgrading to a two story three bedroom house.

      I got out of the bathroom and headed to my room to pack. As soon as I got in there my gold iPhone 7 plus started ringing. I look at the caller ID. Todd. Just the look of his name gets my blood boiling! I get so mad that I chuck my phone at the wall. I flop on my bed and start sobbing. It's not his fault. He didn't do this to me. It's my fault but he and the others played a factor in it. I get up after wiping my eyes to pick my phone up. It's not cracked but it does have a scratch on it. He's the last number I have to delete. I hover my finger over the delete contact and I tap it. There, done! That makes me feel a little bit better. I deleted most of my "friends" contacts after the incident. I completely isolated myself from them. I  sighed and started to pack.
         An hour and a half later, I'm finally done. Maybe I could start over and get my act together.  "Good! You're done!," my mother said happily. I nodded and took my stuff to put on the moving truck. "Well everything in the house is packed, all we have to do is hit the road!" "What about your sisters, brothers, and parents," I said. Her face fell as she thought. She never really had the best relationship with her parents and barely talks to her siblings. "They won't miss us. I'll call when we're on the road." Family means a lot to me although at times I feel like I'm alone. "I think we should see them in person," I told her. "One, YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I'M THE PARENT YOU'RE THE CHILD AND WHAT I SAY GOES! Okay, hon?," she yelled.  She usually doesn't yell at me like this. The only time she does is when she's drunk. She's sober right now so I must've struck a nerve. "Aria, please put the bags in the car. I need to take a smoke." She lighted a cigarette and left. I sighed and pulled both of our heavy bags to the car.

20 minutes after smoking we got ready and left. It would take 11 hours just to get there. This is going to be a long ride.
An hour in my mom had to take another smoke break. We were on the road and we couldn't stop, so she smoked in the car. "Want one?," she offered. Any other mom would ground their 16 year old daughter from smoking, drinking, or doing drugs. Not my mother. I look at my mother then to the cigarette and rolled my eyes. "More for me," she shrugged. Ten more hours.. And I'm counting down the minutes...

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