Wooded Encounter (GL)

Chapter 2

"Saffy..  I think we need to talk about something."  my mom looked at me from across the dinner table, the cracked one we needed to throw out.  

I looked up from a crack I was looking at, against the wood that the old owners had mysteriously left behind.  Mysteriously?  Please.  They wanted to get rid of this table and I can't blame them.  "Yeah?"

"Me and your dad.. Well, we're filing for divorce."  My heart dropped, along with my fork.  "Since he's been 'out' with other women, he's an alcoholic, he's hurt our family pretty bad.  That's actually why we moved here.  He will be staying with us for awhile, until he can get back on his feet."  

"Won't life be.. I don't know... different..?"

"Of course it will.  Embrace change.  I also have another thing to talk to you about.  It's going to be even more life changing and I hope that you can support me."

"God, mom, have you been reading those quotes again?"  Mom raised one eyebrow, relaxing her face into a glare.  Her eyes were much to sweet for that, though, dark brown, a few wrinkles surrounding them.  "Don't look at me like that.  Go on."

"How do I say this...   Well, your old mother isn't going to be the only mother you have."

"Dad's getting married?  That quickly after the divorce?"  

"Not Dad..  I am."

"Doesn't that mean you like girls?"  

"Saffron.. Your father and I's marriage was arranged...  We'll explain why when you get a little bit older.  About two more years.  Well, before you realize I never said who I was marrying and you ask, it's actually Susan.  We've been going out for a long while now.  Yet another reason we moved up here, not just all the.. drama that happened back there."

"Mom, I think I'm full.  I haven't seen my room yet, can you show me there so that I can unpack?"

"Jesus, I certainly raised a very boring daughter.  Upstairs, third door down, left side.  Most of your stuff is already unpacked, but knock yourself out."

I scraped off what was left of my dinner plate into the garbage, before realizing how wasteful that was.  Couldn't do anything about it now.  I carefully stepped one by one on each creaky stair, looking at the framed photographs on the wall.  I kept walking, only stopping when one caught my eye.  

A girl.  Black hair.  Around my age, around sixteen years old.  But there was something off about the photo.

A mother figure, hidden not very well underneath a scratchy looking sheet that lay across the back of the chair she sat on.  The girl's eyes were closed, her jaw uncontrollably dropping open and an odd limpness, like a ragdoll.  It was a dead girl, and her name was obviously Kelly.

So, I can only put this in italic because I decided it would be smart, at almost 1 am, to play some Nitrotype and coolmath games on my school chromebook.  I love typing and I'm honestly pretty decent at it so I thought, why not write yet another chapter to my book?

By the way, I wrote the first chapter about a week ago but had no idea how I wanted to make a book cover, and actually make it somewhat my own.  I got the photo cover on Alpha's Suicidal Mate from Unsplash, editing it with ibispaintx    Now I figured out what PicsArt is and I can at least personalize things.