J.J.J.

 I walk out of my small townhouse in frustration. How could we be MOVING? I have all my friends here, in New York. But no, we have to move to Alabama. Why there? Nobody had a job there, it was just me and my mom, I run my hand through my thick blond hair, something I do when I am nervous or boerd. My bright blue eyes search the area for something to do. What am I crazy? It was pouring. I must look like undead out here in the rain with my big gray hoodie and jeans out here at four in the morning. "Ray! Get inside right now!" I hear my mom behind me. I trudge through a mud puddle, and get inside quickly.

 "What in heavens sake were you thinking!" My mother snaps. She has been way too over protective since my dad died. Last month, really. She probably just wanted to get away from all his memories, by moving. "I don't know mom." I say. I wasn't about to fight with her, because then she will just tell me my father would be so utterly disappointed, and start crying again. "Don't do that again." She says, "I was afraid that you would tun away." My mothers green eyes seem  to burn into me like a flame, I don't know the last time that she brushed her dark brown hair, probably sometime before my dad had his heart attack. It happened here, in out small cottage looking house. It was so tiny, but so desirable. It had a small downstairs, that always smelled like my fathers burning candles, and an upstairs that was for only the bedrooms. It was so hard to believe that we are leaving- thing is, I don't want to leave for the exact reason my mom wants to.

 I like the memories of my dad, his shaving mirror still in the bathroom, his belongings untouched, the small hallway, I keep thinking that I see him walking into my bedroom- but he is not there when I check, I want to keep him fresh in my head, but my mom just wants to forget. There was sadly no going back, somebody already bought the small cottage, and my mom bought the house in Alabama. We were on this thing were we have to be out of this house my next week.