When Nothing Goes Right, Go Left

Home Again

Emberly

     Let it be. That's what my sister often said when I was angry with how life treated my family. Let it be. That's how my sister dealt with how much we'd lost. Let it be. That's what she said five minutes ago when her friend started complaining about her job. 

     Brea often dusted off problems from her shoulder. Ready to conquer the next task at hand. How she was able to pay for the house, I have no idea. I didn't even think I wanted to know. But, as I unloaded the last of my boxes from my horse trailer, I found myself enjoying the fact that we were back home and going to attempt a life of normal. At least that's what Brea called it. You couldn't call any event in my life normal. 

     "Ember! Did you unload the kitchen appliances yet?" Brea yelled from the house. 

     I walked through our new door. She found a two bedroom two bath on the west side of Kaycee, Wyoming. Plenty of space between our new home and our old one. Luckily, with our new house, it came with a comfy kitchen as well as a living room. The master bedroom, which I made sure Brea took, was on one side of the house, while my bedroom was on the other side. When we first pulled up, it looked like a cottage from the woods painted baby blue. Steps led up to french front doors with wide windows on either side. Inside, wood tile went all through out the house, the walls painted light gray, the kitchen white wood cabinets and  dark wood counter tops. The kitchen wasn't huge it was comfy, an eight foot by eight foot room to be precise. 

     "Ya, I put it in the kitchen." I call back as I pass the kitchen. 

     "Okay, thank you!" Brea yelled, oblivious of where I was in the house. 

     I set down my box in the room, and look around. Hopefully I can get a job so that I can purchase things for my room. I don't have a lot of decorations since we traveled around an stayed in Brea's van. She owned one of those vans you consider hippies to own, and she had refurbished it years ago. She's a traveling photographer and sells her photos for good money. For the past eight years we traveled across states. 

     I was able to come back to Kaycee quite a bit to rodeo with Finn. Brea hasn't been home in eight years though. I'm worried about how she's going to take it. 

     "So, what are we doing for dinner?" I ask walking into the kitchen. 

     "Well since I don't have any food worth cooking, it's probably a snack night," she says putting away the few pots and pans we own. "Oh! Before I forget, you're signed up for high school and they're expecting you to show up tomorrow."

     "What?!" 

     "Your seventeen Ember. You haven't been to school since fourth grade." Brea explained. 

     "I've been doing perfectly fine with home school." 

     "I have a job interview tomorrow at seven. I expect that you will be up and ready by six fifty, why are you so worried?" 

     "I don't know, it just ..." I sigh. "I don't think I'm scared, just I worry about everything. You know that." 

     "Yes, but you'll be fine. You'll have Finnick with you, I'm sure he'll guide you around." 

     "Have you told him yet?" 

     "Yep, he said 'he'll be your tour guide through the hell of high school' is how he quoted it." 

    "Wonderful, maybe I'll join the cheer squad, be popular, party, date, get a high school crush, and live happily ever after with my high school sweet heart," I say in a fake, squeaky, dreamy voice. 

     "Whatever, don't you have boxes to unpack?" 

     "Ya, but I don't have anything to put places. No furniture life." I say walking back to my room.

     The owners before us were kind enough to leave behind they're beds though. At least I'd get a good night sleep, on a temper pedic mattress! I was excited to find that out. I guess the old owners were wealthy, so they had no need for the beds. 

     I took out my blanket from one of the boxes and walked over to the bed. It was one of those beds that had a low box frame with no head board and had ledges on all the sides. California King too, SCORE! It was painted pink, definitely going to have to change that. But for now it'll do. 

     Looking at my clock, eight thirty. No wonder I was tired. I'll have to unhook from my trailer in the morning. I closed my eyes, but only to go straight into my reoccurring dream. The one that I can never escape from. The horror that is my past.