Along Came a Luna

Chapter One

-Arabella's Aesthetics-

I didn't want to do this anymore.

Moving from house to house when things got out of hand. A part of me thinks it is all my fault, scratch that, it IS all my fault. My father tells me this all the time and a part of me can't help but agree with him. You can only hear things so many times before you start believing them...

"Oi you little brat! You better have put your money on the table, so I can go get some fuel or I swear I will make you sell your disgusting body on the streets. At least maybe then we might be able to afford some snacks on the way," my father yelled from downstairs.

That's right, my dad. Lovely man, right?

"Yes, father. I put it on the island- "

"Don't call me your father! It already makes me cringe to know that I created something as revolting as you. I am going to fill up the car and when I get back, all those boxes better be down here and in that truck!" he said whilst interrupting me.

I heard the sound of the door slamming and I turned around to be met with the sight of at least 40 boxes. Great. I got to work straight away as I picked up a box and started to haul it downstairs. After around 37 boxes, my arms were raw red, and my back felt sore and strained. Only 3 more to go, I can do this. As I turned to start walking towards the stairs for the hundredth time, I heard a car pulling up in the driveway.

Oh no.

Shit! I am not finished yet. I started to race up the stairs, hoping that with each step I would sink into the floorboards. Once at the top, I saw the last remaining boxes. I glared at them. This is all YOUR fault... stupid boxes. I tried to stuff one between my legs, one under my left arm and one under my right. I started to shuffle towards the stairs and as soon as I reached the edge, the front door screeched open.

Short and shaky breaths escaped my quivering form as all colour drained from my face. I started to hop down each step, keeping a firm grip on the handrail.

"What is that noise!?'

I looked down to see my father standing at the bottom of the staircase. I am screwed.

"Tut Tut Tut Arabella, you should have been quicker," he said whilst an evil smirk appeared on his lips.

I dropped the boxes I was holding with my arms and legs, not caring that they may hold fragile belongings. I raced to the top of the staircase with my heart hammering in my chest. I started to run to my bedroom, the only closest place with a lockable door. Just as my fingers grazed the cold metal handle, I was thrown backwards.

I fell onto the floor with a grunt.

"Nice try," he said looking down at my small frame.

I tried to get up and make another run for it, but his foot collided with my stomach. A small whimper left my mouth in the form of a cough. A spray of red paint left my mouth with every kick that landed on my tan skin. After what felt like hours, he stopped. Satisfied. I saw his retreating figure walk down the stairs, picked up the last 3 boxes as if they weighed nothing and walk away. Probably to the truck.

"Hurry up and get your fat ass in the car!"

I slid myself up at a slow pace. Sharp pains stabbed at my whole body. Probably my bodies way of saying, 'get the fuck down boo, you hurt,' but I ignored the pain and crawled downstairs, out the front door and into the car.

Why are we moving you ask?

I got too close last time and people saw too much under the covers, I cannot let that happen this time. Not just for my sake, but for the people around me. My life holds too much havoc. I am a raging tornado, destroying anything and everything in its path.

You better get in your storm cellars Mayview because Arabella is coming to town.