In Some Way.

Chapter One

"What do you see Layla?"

"I see ink on a page," I say. I hate it here, stuck in this small room which smells like one to many squirts of perfume. Four light brown walls enclose me in with a very fat women named Mrs.Cantu who wants me to tell her how I'm feeling.

It's been like this every three days since my brother died two months ago. My parents are worried about me because all I ever do is read now days. I see no harm in it, it's my way of escaping.

I've said nothing about my feelings because I simply refuse to. What's the point of letting someone in when they will just ask you hundreds of questions and judge you?

"Today is your last session here before you move and I would like to at least have a good one with you." She gives me the annoyed look she always does before she finally gives up and let's me go. She does just that, let's me go that is, after giving me a awkward hug.

"Thank God," I mumble to myself while walking out of the building. My converse clicking on the floor and a book in hand I escape the hell and find a giant U-HAUL parked in front.

My parents have been wanting a "new start" as they say. I know they just don't want to live in the house their only son shot himself in so we are moving to Louisiana. I could honestly care less where we lived, it won't make him come back. I wish it would though. My brother and I were close, he's taken care of me more then my own parents. They were always away from home for business but in reality they were cheating on each other.

I walk up to the truck and hop in the back seat. No one talks, we never do anymore. We just sit in the quiet as we drive off. I pull out a book from my bag and begin to read as my new adventure starts in both of my reality and imagination.

Being in a truck for 7 hours really hurts your back and honestly I have to pee so I'm glad when we arrive to our new home.

It's a small house on a rock paved road with white walls and a deck. A bench attached to a tall oak tree swings back and forth to the light breeze in the air.

We only have one neighbor from what I can see. Not much else is around the area.

I walk into the house to find my parents already bringing boxes in. My mom directs me into my room where boxes lay waiting to be unpacked. Dusty bookshelves line two pail purple walls while a wide window takes place of another. Sitting on the hard wood floor my brown hair falls over my shoulders in long wavy strands.

It's hot. I should have expected this in the summer, I'm already sweating. Finding a white t-shirt that reads "Griffindor," on the front. I go to change only to hear three little taps on the window.