gone

.one.

The flight still heavy in my eyes, I fell asleep only to be awaken by the slamming door.
I was here. At another house. Another move. Not that moving mattered anymore. Virginia held only memories of books I read in a house alone for two months. Nothing was home anymore. I have to believe Dad tried but he knows Mom made a house a home anywhere his business took us.
Past tense.
Made.
I stood up as the suit and tie driver opened my door. His paper thin hand swiftly grabbing my own to assist me, he formally welcomes me.

"On behalf if the staff, we are thrilled upon your arrival. We hope everything meets your standards Miss Gem. "
Always business like. Everything in my life felt like a business deal. I think my Father liked everything that way. It was impersonal.

Speaking of my 'care taker'..

"When is my father due?" I asked the driver.
"Noon. Sir Henry will be assisting you with your luggage." He snaps his thimble fingers at a man who looks to be in his late 20's.
The man nods and grabs my luggage as I walk up the stairs observing my new "home". Floor length windows. Victorian foundation. Southern shutters. Spiral staircase seen from the glass wall. Clean white double doors with more windows. Isn't this just lovely? Not that it matters it's just a house. Another house. I step up to the doors as two blonde maids in blue uniform abruptly open them. Cute girls. High cheek bones and slender faces they could almost pass for twins. I nod toward their smiling faces as I walk by. Dad will eat them alive. A bed at this point was essential.

Father couldn't take the same flight as me, I guess I couldn't eat dinner with him. He can arrange dinner with a new co-worker, leggy model or some other boring as paint pealing person. He would rather it be that way.

I have my first day at Crimson High tommorow. Maybe I can escape this "arrangement" for a while. After all that's what every move is about, every house. It's all about the business arrangement. And in fathers belief: "finish your business and arrange whatever it takes to take care of your business. "

Sometimes that even means leaving your wife, or letting your daughter live alone. After all it's only bussniess.

Right?

"Right." I muttered stumbling up the spiral staircase. My room was always on the right in every house. And father selected his and our houses (everyone of them) to be designed for his room to be on the opposite side of every house. Let's just say daddy dearest loves space. And I although enthusiastic as a child, I learned after time to settle for a book and in a quiet room to hide away. And since I made that choice to hide, you could say my father has never found me agian. Not really me. He only knew, only cared to know my placement.

I entered my quite room for the next 5 months. My footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as I looked over the wide room. All my books lined the left wall and my grandmothers home made quilt that was my mothers lay on the queen sized mattress. I walked over to the book case and grabbed my first addition Wuthering Heights book.
Curling up into the perfectly made bed after ripping the covers off of it, I pulled my mothers quilt over my thin body. Opening the book I ran my fingers over my mothers handwriting for the thousandth time.

"Promise you'll never forget me,"
I pressed the book to my chest and for a moment I thought maybe, there was hope in forever love. The love my mother once held for me. The love that I hoped wasn't gone.