Note: this story starts when Sky is seven.
♦Weston Woods's POV♦
I quietly eat my cereal, avoiding eye contact with my mom, who would scream at me for staring at her. When I'm done eating my breakfast, I go to put the bowl away, but I spill a little bit of milk, slip, hit my head on the hardwood floor, smashing the ceramic bowl at the same time, leaving tiny little cuts all over me. My mom walks over to me and gets furious. "Look at this mess! AND YOU DESTROYED AN EXPENSIVE BOWL!!! She kicks me. "Get up and clean up this mess! And I hope you have enough money to replace this bowl!"
Because of all the noise, my dad walks in. "What's going o- West!!! Are you okay?" He helps me up. My mom yells "Is HE okay?!?! LOOK AT WHAT THAT STUPID, WORTHLESS, CLUMSY LITTLE KID DID!!!!
"Stop it, Clara! He's only seven! That's it. I'm leaving, and I'm taking Weston with me!" Now, most kids would be torn apart to have to leave their mom forever, but I couldn't have been happier. "YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE LIKE THAT!!!" My mom shouts.
My dad says "I can and I will. C'mon Weston, pack up. We leave tomorrow. My friend George can't find anyone who will buy his house, despite how little he's selling it for."
I happily skip to my room to pack, while my mom just stands there in shock.
♦The next morning♦
I hug my mom goodbye. I hop in the car. I look back at the house, and guilt twists up my stomach as I see the expression on my mother's face.
You know, my life used to not always be like this. It was pretty normal until my older brother Kevin's girlfriend dumped him. He had extreme bipolar disorder, and he was so screwed up that he hung himself. The next morning my mom was in the living room holding a bottle of vodka. My dad was really sad for a year, but he didn't go cuckoo.
I wake up as my dad shouts happily, "We're here!"
As we walk in, I inhale the best smell I've smelled in over two years-something that doesn't smell like tequila or tobacco. "George left some food in the fridge-how's steak on the grill sound?"
"As long as we take it OFF the grill before we eat." I joke. He laughs. The image of my mom's sad face pops into my head, but I shake it out. "You were so sleepy on the car ride," my dad says. "You slept for seven hours straight."
"We're in Canada?"
"Nope, but just by the border."
"Oh. Well, I'm gonna shower before we eat." I say.
"Okay. Your bathroom is upstairs, second door to the left."
"Thanks."
I take my clothes off, turn on the water, step in, and soak for a few minutes. Then I wash myself, step out, and wrap myself in a dry towel. I put on a plain gray tee and some jeans. I look in the mirror and realize my hair looks like a dead cat. I tame it, or at least try to, but it always sticks up in a million places. I give up. I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, where there are two steaks on plates. "Medium well, with extra seasoning, just the way you like it." My dad smiles. I smile back as I shove a huge forkful of steak into my mouth.
