"We're what?" I asked my parents as they stared back at me. My father with a cold expression and my mother with sympathy in her eyes.
"Moving, Lydia." My mother said, shifting her gaze down to the hem of her knee length skirt where her fingers were busy picking at themselves. I stood up and started pacing my blonde hair streaming behind me,
"You've got to be joking. I've spent my entire life here. All of my friends are here. How can you make me leave my home?", I asked incredulously. My father cleared his throat, "Well, I've gotten a promotion-"
"So you're making me leave my life for some extra money?", I accused, stopping my pacing to stand directly in front of him. His gaze narrowed, "Watch your tone. I'm doing what's best for this family. What's best for you. Life has become difficult here ever since your decision and now I have to fix your mistakes." I could feel my face harden, "My decision? My mistakes? Being gay is not a decision and my only mistake was confiding in you about it." I laughed bitterly and turned on my heel heading toward my room. I paused at the base of the stairs, "How much time do I have to pack my stuff?"
"A week." My father spat making me cringe on the inside. I had long since trained myself to keep the fear off my face. I nodded sharply and continued up the stairs to my room.
I came out to my parents a few months ago after I celebrated my seventeenth birthday. It's safe to say that my father didn't take it well. He preceded to tell me that there was no room in heaven for deviants like me while my mother cried silently beside him on the couch. One thing led to another and I found myself in the hospital with a black eye and three broken ribs.
Of course no one questioned it. I mean, who would question the best lawyer in town? No one wanted to get on Samuel Windham's bad side, not even the police. So I spent the last few months as far away from my house as I could, only going back to sleep, while I healed.
But people started to talk and everyone was tired of walking on eggshells around my father. The great Mr. Windham was losing his grip on the sleepy little town. I'm surprised I didn't realize before. Of course he would want to skip town, moving to a different one to sink his manipulative claws into.
Sighing, I threw myself on to my bed. There really was no point in fighting anymore. I wouldn't be free of him until my eighteenth birthday. Less than a year away. I could make it.
***************************
The day of the move crept in on me quickly and before long, I was in the back seat of our family car, watching the world as I knew it fade away into the distance. Reluctantly, I turned away and slouched down into my seat.
"Sweetheart, it's not that bad. I'm sure you'll make new friends quickly.", my mother chattered cheerfully. I rolled my eyes and ignored her, choosing to put my headphones in and stare out the window.
I continued the rest of the trip in that position until finally falling asleep.
"Lydia, wake up darling. We're here."
My mother's voice dragged me out of my slumber quickly and I sat up. It was dark outside and the only source of light came from a porch light on a quaint little house. I slowly clambered out of the car to take in my new surroundings.
The house was small and blue with white shudders but that wasn't what caught my eye. Surrounding the house was a thick dark forest full of tall trees that seemed to watch us as we got out of the car. I felt chills and the small hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention. Creepy.
"Let's get inside.", my father said briskly as he hauled his own suitcase to the door, leaving Mom and I to carry our own luggage in. I rolled my eyes and turned to the car for my duffle bag."You sure know how to pick 'em." I called over my shoulder to my mother as I walked into the house.
The house was just as cute on the inside as it was out. It had white walls and deep dark wooden floors. I climbed my way up the stairs to the room I would be calling home for the next 10 months.
I opened the door to a small room with a twin sized bed, a vanity, and a closet. I tossed my duffle on the floor and stripped to my underwear, tossing myself on the bed.
I was dozing off when I heard my window creak open but I couldn't coax my sleep ridden eyes open and, as I fell into unconsciousness, the feel of my bed dipping under something's weight and fingers brushing my blonde curly hair out of my face lulled me to sleep.
