(TW: mention of depression)
Moving sucks. Why does my mom always do this? After yet another leap of faith with a guy, she had not only moved the family halfway across the country but also ended up bringing us to the middle of nowhere. She had said something about being closer to nature and how it was a dream of hers to live off grid.
After putting the last grossly girly shirt into my keep box, I taped it shut and put it with the rest. From downstairs I hear my mom calling me to get my boxes in the truck.
"Candice, hurry and bring what you need! Keith will bring the rest when were settled." She called up the staircase. We we're going to drive all the way to Washington from our house in Minnesota and I was not looking forward to it. I stacked a couple boxes and brought them down.
"I know. I know. I was just finishing up." I saw, trying to prevent my voice from going monotone. I had been having a depressive episode since the last minute announcement the week before.
"Don't give me that attitude, young lady. Now get the boxes in the truck. We'll have to leave soon or we won't get there until late at night."
I just nodded, knowing anything more would give her a fit. I put the boxes at the very end of the truck since the rest of it was full. Keith, my step dad, got into the truck and started it. My sister, Trixy, went to join him in the front. My brother, James, and I went to sit in my mom's car. I pulled out my cheap hand-me-down phone as we drove out of the driveway.
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