Watty's 2019 !! - CURRENTLY UNDER EDITING (SLOWLY)
ORIGINALLY CALLED FINDING HOME (NOW SEQUEL'S TITLE)
When Paisley Evans moves from New Orleans, Louisiana to Oregon, Portland, can she fight the instinct she's grown to have to close herself off to o...
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The warm afternoon sun kissed the exposed patches of my skin as I stretched my cramped and seized muscles from the long drive. Of course, I'd be the only one to only get collectively barely two hours of sleep the entire 35-hour drive from New Orleans to Oregon.
"Paisley!" My mother's screeching is heard echoing through the once again unfamiliar neighborhood.
You see my mom doesn't just yell. Oh no. She shrieks like an air horn on steroids, and no matter how loud my music pounds in my ears, her shrill could be heard through it all.
I begrudgingly removed the heavenly built objects that allowed the beautiful, angelic form of art called music, to flood my ears. Music is the only thing that can obscure me from the accustomed unconventional routine that is my life. Well isn't that a mouthful.
"Yeah?" Fatigue plagued my entire body and knots had formed from the folded positions I was forced in from being cooped up most of the drive.
My limbs were sore and there was nothing more than I needed right now than to walk and loosen my seized-up joints before climbing into my reassembled bed.
"Take your father's last box into his study." She nodded her head in the direction of the box sitting on the sidewalk.
"Mhm," I say trudging over to the box and squatting down, my knees cracking from lack of use.
I picked it up and walked back up the few stairs leading onto the porch, through the large white wooden and glass door, and down the small hallway into the open planned living and dining room. The walls are a creamy off-white color that makes the house feel more inviting and warmer, instead of all our past houses that resembled the feel of a sterilized hospital.
After dropping the last box into my Dad's office, I make my way through the hallway of naked walls, and back out the door shouting out to my Mom that I'm going for a walk with Ace.
Not bothering with a leash since I trust him completely and he's been trained, he started following close behind me as I walked down the quiet street.
Many people have made several remarks and comments about my habitat of not putting a leash on Ace when I walk him or go out anywhere, simply because he's a large, blue American Staffy. I don't get what all the fuss is about, it could as easily be any other breed of dog that could turn violent from terrible training, or selfish and evil intentions.
I get that some can find Ace quite intimidating due to his sheer size but, he's such a softy. Don't get me wrong, he can be very protective over me and Tyler but he would never attack anybody without reasonable provocation.
Following the cemented sidewalk that led to the nearby park, I spotted on the drive to the new house. I walk the two streets back if I recalled that correctly. Ace walking brazenly beside me etching in front slightly with a slither of protectiveness that kept him on high alert of our new surroundings.
