Yellow Reggae

One.

                                                                  >>>>Nami.<<<<

  "Welcome to Kingston, Jamaica." My mother whispered in my ear softly.

  I woke up out of my nap, looking down at my bare lap. One of my earbuds rested on top of my cellphone while the other one remained in my ear, blasting an old Cascada song. I looked to my mother, who had a wide smile on her face. I had to fight myself from rolling my eyes.

  "Great." I mumbled, opening the door of the small cab Mom and I had taken from the airport. "Where's Dad?"

  "He's inside with our bags."

  I nodded, walking up to the porch of my new home. I grimaced at the disgusting exterior of the small house. The white paint was chipping off, revealing a nasty rust. A pair of trees hung near the house as grass surrounded it like a peninsula. I huffed and walked inside of the house. Instantaneously, the scent of cooking food hit my nose, making my stomach growl. I was starving; the airplane food was stale, so I hadn't had a morsel of food for nearly two days.

  The inside of the house was very cute. It reminded me of one of those Polly Pocket dollhouses Mom and Dad used to buy me. The walls were painted a pretty cremé with lavender outlining and the maple decor went perfectly. Our cremé sectional sat behind a glass center table, while our flat screen television sat on a wood and glass TV stand. Our floors were made up of dark wood that was perfectly aligned to prevent splinters.

  I looked around the house with a slight smile on my face. Maybe Jamaica isn't as bad, I thought to myself. I was not accepting of leaving my home in Northern California. I hadn't even been there for a good three years. I had made such good friends and I loved my school dearly. Now, I'd have to make friends in the neighborhood and start a new school. I still refuse to understand why, of all places, Dad wanted to move to Jamaica. Sure, it's a beautiful island with a lot of history, but why the hell couldn't we have moved to somewhere within the United States?

  I heard footsteps through my engrossing cloud of thoughts. I waved them away, only to see my father standing outside of what seemed to be the kitchen. My smile grew wide. "Daddy!" I exclaimed, running over to him.

  He chuckled, wrapping me in a tight hug. He kissed my forehead. "Hi, Nami-Bear!" He replied mockingly. I laughed at his childhood nickname for me as I pulled away from his embrace. I was so excited to see my father once again. After I found out we were moving to Jamaica, Dad packed some of our furniture and left with it to Jamaica. He left earlier in order to settle our housing situation here before we officially moved here. I loved my father more than my mother, honestly. I guess because we were closer since birth. He was very protective and caring over me and my older brother, Niko. He was the true provider for the family, and I appreciated that.

  "I missed you!" I said.

  "I missed you too, sweetheart." Dad looked over at my mother, who was grinning at the father-daughter moment Dad and I were displaying. He went over to her, taking her small hands into hers. I watched closely as he rubbed his thumb on the huge diamond ring on her finger from their wedding years ago. "I missed you, honey."

  Mom blushed. "I missed you more, Orochi." She got on her tip-toes, planting a kiss on his lips. I smirked at how swept up my mother was. My dad still had the swagger and charm that could make any woman drop their pants in a split second.

  My father, in my opinion, was very attractive. He had golden skin, slanted brown eyes, and a perfect jawline. His five-foot-eight frame was usually complimented with a black suit or a casual tee and dark jeans. When he was feeling really cooled out, he'd dress in an Adidas tracksuit with a pair of vintage Jordans. The most attractive thing about my father was his voice. His voice was Casanova smooth with a dash of Japanese flare. When I hear his voice now, the Japanese accent was slowly forming into a Jamaican one.