Seventeen

Chapter One

 I can't believe it we're actually doing this.  I'm staring at the boxes that are being hauled out one by one and Mom is staring at me with a scowl. She know's I'm mad I don't want to leave Florida,but this is a lesson a punishment. 

 " Ciara Cameron stop doing that.''

 I shake my head and roll my eyes. This is not fair and I know I'm acting like a two year old,but it's not my fault dad left so early. It's not my fault my life is shit. I stare at the window and for the last time I see the sun and I'm wondering if I do look long enough will I go blind, will I disappear. I see my faint appearance my big brown eyes, shoulder length brown hair,fair skin and the little scars that line my shoulders. I shiver at the thought,but she breaks it.  I hear her heels going downstairs and I turn back. I know she's trying her best. She keeps saying London will be a new start, it'll be an eye opener. I shake my head and for some reason the prick of tears trailing down my cheeks surprises me. How do you tell your mom your sorry for that shit I've done. Getting arrested twice, staying out until the police are called or the most tragic of them all loosing my shit so bad I almost died. I can't ever take that back when Mom found me I hurt her so bad,but I blame my friends, I blame school and I blame the man who couldn't give two shits about me. I can't stay away from what's eating me,but I won't tell her I can't and as I feel the tears picking up she comes back in and tells me it's time to go.

  I look around one more time and the walls are blank, posters ripped away, and I can still see the pain I've left. Goodbye sunny mornings and hello dreary nights. 

______________________________________________

   I feel a shrug and my eyes flutter open. Her perky brown eyes are slicing me and I think to myself how did I ever hurt this woman. 

 " Honey we're here look out the window.''

 I look out the planes window and I see the places that have only been written about. I see stories and I see everything I've ever thought of. I thought coming to London was pointless,but maybe I was underestimating this who new life. My eyes are jumping out of their sockets,but then I look down and I see the water. In a few minutes I start to shake and my breathing gets heavier. My mom notices and she shakes her head.

  " Honey, you looked down. What did Dr. Miles tell you you're anxiety is too severe stay away from that. Calm yourself down.''

 The horrifying memories of being underwater take ahold of me and I know I need to do this. Face what I did to myself and as I feel the plane shuffle, six hours of sitting and my butt feels sore. I hate planes and I hate whats to come next.

_______________________________________

   Getting off the plane is a tittering reminder that I will be living in London for awhile I don't want to be on a plane again. As mom gets our bags I sit patiently and I look out the big glass doors and it's snowing. I want to run out and play,but I'd look like a fool being seventeen and playing like a five year old. I never act my age. As I stare I feel a tap on my shoulder and look over it,but it's not my mom. It's an older man with brown hair with laces of grey, coffee brown eyes and has wrinkles that touch his eyes. I look at him in confusion and I see mom coming back as she does I see her steps become slower and slower. What is this?

  " Ciara it's you,'' he says and he touches my hair. 

 I look at him and I want to yell at him, this is stranger danger. As he touches me mom rushes towards me and yells at him and his name slices through me and my jaw is on the ground.

  " William get your hands off Ciara you have no right.''

 Her perky voice I usually hear is gone filled with hate. This is William Cameron. It's my so called daddy. I smack his hand away and I feel like crying. This is unreal. I'm wondering why he's here and did my mom know. I shake my head and run out of the airport lobby. I wait outside and I can feel the cold it's undeniably cold. How can people live here?  I turn around and she's red filled with years of rage. He ran off when I was five and now that he's here  I can't see why he would.  I turn back around and my tears are staining my face I can't contain how I'm feeling. It's not fair for her to have such a messed up ex and a messed up daughter. I feel so sad and I wonder what it would be if she would of had a normal daughter the thought pains me more and I cry profusely more. 

   I look back again and the scene has cooled down,but my mom is still angry. William looks so torn and he looks like crap. In a flannel jacket, tee-shirt underneath, and denim jeans he looks like bum. Is he? My mom walks out head held high and luggage in hand. She grabs my hand and drags me away and as I look back he's staring at the both of us and with my free hand flip him off. You're not worth a damn.   

 My mom calls out at taxi and we're off. I can't believe what has happened from moving across country, from my anxiety, to my estranged father I look up and I'm praying that God isn't planning anything worse.  I see a sign from the corner of my eye and see the town we are heading towards is Holmes Chaple. I say it a few times and I chuckle. As we past brick house and more brick houses we stop at one and what do you know it's brick. Go figure.

 My mom pulls are luggage and she whispers that are boxes will be shipped in two to three days.I nod and take our stuff inside. The house is small,but cute. Two bedrooms and everything else is minus. The only thing in the house is a couch and stove. Not much you can say is home yet.  My mom smiles brightly and I tilt my smile. It's not nothing at least. As I pull my luggage into my new room it's as the rest of the house sorry looking. The paint is chipped and the only thing in it is a mattress the last owners must of taken everything.  As I set my stuff down I hear my mom yelling. I wonder if my dad has followed us,but when I look out into the livingroom she's yelling into the phone. I want to ask,but I don't want to rattle her further. I walk back and know it's my dad. Why the fuck is here? How did he know? All these questions storm into mind,but I know I'll never get the answers I want. I look out the window and as I see the day fading slowly I realize I have something called school to prepare for. Fuck! 

 " Mom,'' I yell out and her heels are the only thing I hear. 

 She pokes her head in and I just want to drop everything and say let me get a job,but that would anger her. 

 " Did you already enroll me into school,'' I ask and I'm crossing my fingers that she didn't yet.

 " Of course I did you're going to Holmes Chaple Comprehensive School they have a great English course that I know you'll love. It's still you favorite subject right.''

 I nod my head and smile. I've loved books for as long as I can remember. There were times I wasn't allowed literature because dad would rip it up,but then again it was children's book.  I look at her and I want to frown,but English is the only thing making me deny the pleasure. 

 " Good because I forgot to tell you you, start tomorrow.''

 Before I can talk she leaves and my eyes widen. Tomorrow, I start the day after I've gotten here. London is a total different world I know apartments like this are called flats, guy friends are called lads and little things like that,but school is going to kill me. I don't know what they'l do having an American coming to their school. Why didn't she warn me. I want to run down to her and yell at her,but I can't. I breath in then out trying to contemplate the pros and cons. There are more cons then pros,but then again my school in Florida I was the disappearing shadow. I was rarely there maybe I can continue the cycle. I want to mentally high five myself,but my conscious is scowling at me. " Don't make the same mistake twice" she's saying and I stomp in place. New life, new way of it. I need to make up for the damage I've made or I'll never be fixed. 

 I have to make a new way because I know mom deserves better. I will not get in trouble this time I try to say to myself,but for some reason I feel trouble has it's way of finding me first.