who I thought you were // pickdaisy

3.

   29. That was how many McDonalds stretched between home and St. George, so far at least. April and I used to play all different made up games when we were little, perhaps our most fun games were on road trips. Whenever our mom would have to go somewhere for work, and thought we needed a break from school, she would call our school's office saying there was a family emergency in wherever we were headed. The act was maybe not the most virtuous, but definitely memorable

We have been to probably 15 states in the past couple years, always driving through Utah, but never really stopping to absorb the scenery. Right now, however, the sun was long gone, leaving little visible to those on the road.

I was around 30 minutes out when the audio cut out from my iPod. As I picked it up, it showed the dead screen.

"Dammit" I cursed under my breath. Without thinking, I chucked the device towards the passenger seat, completely missing it.

April's iPod flew out the window, along with my chill.

"Dammit" I cursed again, much louder. I pulled over the old, silver van on a strip of dirt near the road and turned on my emergencies. I cut the engine of the vehicle and hopped out, making sure to stay away from passing cars. Whipping out my phone's flashlight, I walked back down the road and ventured to where I estimated her iPod to be. Low and behold, I found in a perfect pile of rubble. It was absolutely shattered. Destroyed. Whatever else you can describe something that has completely and irreversibly eaten shit, it fit.

April is going to kill me. I thought to myself.

   I then packed up what was left of the device, and jumped back into my movers van. I made a mental note to replace it before I saw her next. I wasn't even sure if they still sold them anymore. With everything somewhat resolved and situated, I turned on whatever radio frequency I could pick up. Assuming that disco was the best I was going to get, I turned over the engine and drove off into the night.

~

   After texting my friends and family that I made it here safely, despite it being one a.m., I pulled up to the curb of my dad's house. It was even more beautiful than I remembered it to be. It was a slim, cozy house with three visible stories from the street. A stone staircases glided up towards the main entrance: a large, dark wooden door surrounded by a wall of glass glistened from the moonlight. Around the house was a walk around porch, decorated with wind chimes, wicker chairs, and what seemed to be winter lights still up from our Christmas visit. Above the porch were hanging baskets of flowers and succulents, placed in ranging assortments of color, shape, and size. I stood there in awe of how pretty it was at night.

   Instead of standing out in the humid, calm air, I decided it'd be best to head on in. On the front door, a golden lion's head knocker shimmered. It had only been a couple months since I saw him last, but I didn't quite know how to announce my arrival, especially since it was so late at night. Figuring that I was overthinking the whole situation, I settled on a simple knock. I grabbed the knocker and tapped against the door lightly. With no answer, I grabbed the knocker again, knocking louder. Once again, no answer.

   In attempt to not wake the neighbors sleeping with my repetitive banging, I took my phone out of my back pocket and texted him a couple messages. Waiting another 5 minutes, I left a message in his voicemail and decided that I would somehow have to let myself into the house. Picking up various flower pots and mats, I finally found the solution: A tiny, silver key. Putting the key into the lock, I slowly opened the door.

   Closing the door as quietly as I can, I took a look at the interior of my new house. The inside of the place struck me by surprise as he seemed to move things around completely. New sofas had replaced ones that were previously on the opposite side of the living room. In addition, a brand new flatscreen on the mantle above the fireplace. The kitchen was still in the same place, but all new appliances and glass cabinets had replaced the wooden ones before.

While in my own world, oblivious to the figure that had appeared beside me, I turned around.

I shrieked as loud as humanly possible: "AGAHHHH! oh GOD"

   My father stood there innocently smiling at me, as if he didn't just purposefully not announce himself: "Hello to you too, Junior." He loved to call me junior, as we were told constantly how much we looked alike. We both had striking emerald green eyes that mom was always jealous of. We used to have the same dark brown hair until he got older, his brown now peppered with strands of gray. In the past couple months of me not seeing him, I admit that he has aged a tad. He had more lines visible around his eyes, perhaps from working too much. Similar to the crinkles around his mouth too, mainly from how friendly he was to everyone he met, always smiling.

"Dad!" I embraced him with a Morgan-styled bear hug.

"Sorry to just intrude like this, but I thought you were asleep. I decided breaking in beat sleeping in the van. Although, I don't know if I wouldn't have been better off... you know not being scared half to death and everything." Ending with a pouting expression.

"Corinne, honey. First, don't feel like you're intruding, this is now your home too. Second, how did you get in here? I really need some tighter security; and third, you scared me when I heard the front door slam shut." He said with a chuckle.

"That was what woke you up? I knocked like 5 million times, texted, AND called you." I laughed in disbelief. My mom always said that he had selective hearing. I guess it ended up to be true.

"Oh well I didn't hear any of that." Shocker, I thought. "Anyways, let me show you to your room, or I should say your 'space', it's down here in the basement." He grinned.

"What?" I yelled with excitement while he held a finger up to his lips, "Sorry" I whispered. I raced down the steps, the excitement of my own space hijacking my previous sleep deprived self. As I reached the end of the carpeted staircase, I got a full look at my new home for the next however many months.

   I was in absolute awe. The room that was once my dad's prized den, was transformed into an art lover's dream. It reminded me of a New York studio apartment, in a way. The carpet from upstairs had ended, leaving the same dark oak hardwood floor seen elsewhere around the house. A large queen sized bed sat in the corner, fluffy and looking extra comfortable at this moment. The room had studio lights decorating the ceiling, as well as the same winter lights around the trim. There was a desk with a silver lamp, as well as multiple bean bags and other chairs sprinkled around. The walls were painted a light grey, adorned with pictures of friends and family. In the middle, a tall mirror propped against the wall. In addition to this living space fit for me and like ten other people, there was a separate room just barely visible from the stairs. As I neared, I saw a concrete floor, with rows of shelves and a canvas in the corner.

I turned around grinning from ear to ear: "What is all of this? Where did you get all of the photos and furniture from?"

"Well, April and your friends helped put together their favorite photos of you and them. That room in the back there, is purely for art supplies. I remember how big into it you are, so I set aside some space dedicated to handle mess and such" He said, obviously proud of his work here. I ran and hugged him again, maybe a little bit tighter this time. I had a feeling the dread I felt leaving my friends and family in California would be subsided the more I got used to the hang of things.

"Alright well get some sleep," he continued. "Some buddies of mine will be over tomorrow at 10 sharp to help you unpack. Only because you have some heavier art furniture and equipment. Well that plus your books, clothes, and whatever else you hauled along with you."

"Gotcha. Alright this is amazing. I have to commend you again on your work here. Goodnight" I blew an air kiss to him. He responded with the same hand to heart I gave mom when I first left for Utah.

I had a really good feeling about this place now. Definitely not what I expected, but I'm pleasantly surprised. 

Maybe things won't be so, so bad.