CHAPTER ONE: MOVING IN

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 It's funny how words can affect life. Words can make you joyful. Words can make you sad. Words can make you have many emotions. They can even make you perform actions. Actions that help make decisions on your everyday life. Whether or not you wake up in the morning. If you eat. Sleep. Pick an outfit to wear. And this is all based on words. No matter what you do, people will talk to you. To help you in the halls. To ask a question. To torment you. People will never escape words. It's the reason we live. And words are the very reason why I sat in the passenger side of my aunts black jeep.

About two weeks ago words changed my life. And not for the better. I was sitting in my room when my aunt had burst into my room. She had said in my bed, talking about wonderful news. I had placed my book down, raising a brow to what she was talking about. I thought maybe she was going to let me dye my hair for once. It had crossed my mind. But no. The words that left her lips was the words I never thought I would hear.

"We're moving!" Of course I was shocked. But once I had regained my ability to speak, I argued. My aunt and I had fought the whole night. I hadn't won. If I had won I wouldn't be stuck in this god forsaken car. Driving endlessly against my will. I left the one place I had know my whole life. The place I had trusted on my whole life. And it was taken away. She had made the excuse we needed change and she had a chance to pursue her job.

I had my head leaned on the window, the cold glass seeping into my skin. The outside moved in a blur. The road moving fast. The yellow streaks on the black cement. But beyond that were the trees. They moved slow. As if reluctant to leave. I could sympathize with that. I sigh, my breath fogging up the window. I played with the end of my black sweater, listening to the music in my ears. The music blocked the outside world. So I didn't have to deal with it. I hated dealing with things like this.

As I watched the outside I suddenly felt eyes on my back. I knew my aunt was watching me as she drove the car. And I knew the stare she was using. The worried eyes look. And everytime that look came a discussion will take place. A discussion I hated to have. I turned up my volume, giving a sign that I didn't want to talk. But instead I felt one of my earphones pulled out of my ear.

"Callie." She said. Her tone implied a certain "turn off your music vibe." I rolled my eyes but paused it, facing her. My aunt's hair had always had strange color. A sort of blonde/red short hair that didn't match her blue eyes. She turned to me. Also she had always had nice skin. Looking like she was thirty when she was really forty-nine. She gave me a small smile with her painted red lips.

"I have known you all your life. I know when something is wrong." She said and I scoffed.

"Oh and wonder what that could be?" I hissed. She gave me a sad look and I felt a sting of guilt for being so harsh.

"Callie. I know you're upset about the move but I really think this is going to help us. A change is just what we need. You were always in your room. Only coming out for school and meals. And even when you eat, it wasn't a lot. I grew up here! There are so many things to do. People are so nice." She explained and I looked out the window. I didn't answer, just looking away. I heard her sigh but she didn't say any further.

Soon we came to a neighborhood. The streets where dead. Not a soul in sight. As if they were hiding from us. We soon came to a large house. To say it was large was an understatement. It was at least three stories high. Many windows decorating the front. A large tree shadowed half of the front, making it look twice as large. A series of brick steps lead up to the front doors.

The movers were already there, unpacking in the front yard. In front I saw the first person here. There was a girl. Short. Wavy brown hair loose down her shoulders. She looked deformed in a way. She stared at the house but when we pulled up she looked at our car. We connected eyes and she gave a wide smile.

devoid love • tate langdonWhere stories live. Discover now