Moving. Thats what it has come to. I'm leaving everything for a small town in the middle of no where. The sound of the raindrops against the car window echo in my ears as I think. As I process what is happening. I seek clarity. But, I'm not getting any. As we pull into the driveway I frown. The house is three stories. The fading white paint on the sides are peeling off. The house number 162 is hanging by a single nail, crooked. I slowly leave the warmth of the car and enter the cold fall air. As I drag my feet on the gravel, making sure my parents see the hatred in my eyes, I think about my life here. I left everything. Everyone. The dark brown door is in front of me now and I reach for the oddly shaped doorknob. The door creaks as it opens, the house is dark. As I step in the smell of dust fills my nose and as my foot hits the floorboards it creaks louder than the door. This is my new life. My parents always told me the most important thing is new experiences. Why is it that I'm so afraid of new experiences? This is one of the experiences they were talking about. They've been thinking about it for a while but I think they finally decided to go with it after that awful thing that happened in our hometown. It's just like anywhere you go, there's going to be problems and there's going to be people that you can't trust. There was this teenager named Harry. He was just like any other kid. He was a senior in high school he was very smart he had a lot going for him. He had a beautiful girlfriend and a very kind heart which you can't find that in a lot of people. One day the janitor came into the school early to start cleaning because there was an event at the school the previous night and he was not able to finish the night before. He went outside to a courtyard only to find The body of Harry's girlfriend. She wasn't moving she wasn't breathing and she didn't have a pulse. She was surrounded in a pool of blood. The police questioned everyone that attended the event the night before and I was one of them. No I never talked to Harry or his girlfriend before that but I knew of them. Because of a fight he got in with his girlfriend the night before she was found dead, he was one of the main suspects. Everyone points their fingers at the boyfriend before anyone else. And having an argument the night before didn't exactly clear him out. No one believed him and he said he didn't do it and I didn't know what to believe. Before the trial Harry disappeared. That made him look even more guilty. But, no one could find a trace of him anywhere. It was like he vanished into thin air. My parents decided after that that we should move out of the country. So here we are in London, England new life new start. I don't know anyone and I don't think anyone's going to care to know me. everyone says that traveling to England is a dream. Everyone wants to do it. I wanted to do it. But under the circumstances I'm not really happy at all scared more or less not happy not mad not sad. Just scared. I made my way upstairs to the room that has my bed in it. I'm exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for the rest of my life. So I just collapsed on my bed and closed my eyes hoping that sleep will take over me. But, I couldn't sleep. My body and eyes ached. But my head was running wild. I was too busy thinking of all of the possible things that could go wrong. I thought about Harry. I thought about all my friends. All of these things made me angry. I had to leave because my parents didn't feel safe. It all leads back to Harry, to the murder. Those are the reasons I had to leave my friends and my home. They are the reason for my anger. I have to do something, anything. Harry must be found so the case can be closed and my parents could feel safe enough to go back to where we all belong.
A.N:
Let me know if I should keep going with this. I think this story could be something great but I won't continue unless people like it or want to read more. Comment down below :)
