Lotty

Part 1: James Pastili

As I sat in the back seat of the car my older sister, Olivia, was driving many people stared at me like I was an outcast. I decide to just look away and ignore their stares like I've done my whole life. Many people don't talk to me because I am not as skinny or as pretty as most girls. Before we decided to move to London, I had only one friend named Sarah. She helped me stay strong and deal with the passing of both my parents. I honestly don't know what the kids here will think of me. My sister says that I will be fine and that I will make tons of friends, but I'm not so sure. I'm sorta a nerd and I actually like school. Most people would call me a goody two shoes because I don't smoke or drink and I listen to the rules. I have never even gotten a detention before. I'm one of the girls who sit in the front of the classroom but say nothing. I am extremely shy and I am different. Even my name is different. I mean who names their kid Lotty. I have been cursed with this horrid name and my bad looks and my shyness. No wonder people don't talk to me.

In the middle of my thoughts, Olivia taps my shoulder. Her face looks like she had been trying to get my attention for a while. I look up at her and she looks relieved. "Thank god I thought you were just ignoring me" she says this as we stop at a red light. I quickly reply so she doesn't think her theory is true "I was just thinking." She lets out a soft and simple laugh."Well I'd be lying if I said I was surprised, you're always thinking. I swear your name should be thinking Lotty." I'll admit this made me laugh a little but it was more of a silent laugh that both admits to her being right and allows her to continue talking so I don't have to. She doesn't say anything however so I just put on my headphones and turn the music up. I usually like to listen to music as I think. It allows me to relax and block out the world and all of the horrible people in it. I don't know what I would do without music in my life. Ya I know I'm just another girl that says music is my life, but I mean it. I have no friends and I never go out anywhere so the only way for me to relax and find peace is through music. I can't write music but I do enjoy to sing along to it when I'm alone in my room. I have terrible stage fright so I would never be able to sing in front of someone, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't sing. Or does it? I don't know. My brain lingers onto this thought searching for the answer, but I end up falling asleep after a few minutes.

I wake up to the nudging of my sister. "Wake up Lotty, we are home". She says this with a bright big smile as if she had just won the lottery then she closes the car door and grabs her bags. It takes me a few seconds to wake up but when I do I see the place that I would be calling my home. It was a small broken down house surrounded by woods. I guess it could be worse. I turn away and get my bags out of the trunk of my sisters old rusty car that she had gotten as a gift from my great great grandmother before she had past away. I never really knew her but I heard that I am just like her. She was quiet and different and didn't have many friends, but she had the excuse that her friends had died. What do I have? An excuse that I moved away and that the friends I never had would miss me?

As I finish that thought I walk through the big and ancient doors and into the house. The inside was just like the outside, dark and old. I mean I'm not very judgmental but did Olivia really think that I would make friends living here? The house is like a giant sign that says "Welcome to the land where nobody comes out alive". It was the scariest and darkest house on our block. It also was at the very end where most people drive just to turn around and leave because they made a wrong turn or they are lost. It had some old pictures hanging on the walls of the historical buildings in the area.

There were three floors. The first floor consisted of a dark yet welcoming kitchen that reminded me of something you'd see in an old ladies house, a living room that was painted gray and had a broken tv in the corner of the room, and a dining room that actually looked pretty, if you liked the old fashioned chairs and the huge chandelier. The second floor had three decent sized bedrooms all attached by a long dark hallway that was a grayish blue color. The third floor was an attic which people use for storage use.