Amelia Enchanted

Chapter One

Photo of Amelia
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Claustrophobic.

That's the word that would best describe Deborah's three story home, just outside of some small town, Rhode Island.

I know to everyone else it probably didn't feel that way, but to me, it was sufficating. Maybe it was the stark white walls without any photos, or the fact that everything looked like it needed a "do not touch" sign next to it, but it didn't feel right.

And I know that after three weeks of being here, I should have grown more accustom to my new living situation... but it just wasn't home.

For me, home would always be the little rundown apartment in New York that Dad and I had lived in the for the last fifteen years of my life. Even though it was much smaller than this 'mansion', it still managed to fit us both, along with our tabby cat Jenkins, quite comfortably.

Oh Jenkins...

I let out a sigh of longing for my old life as I shuffled through the many boxes in my new bedroom. I knew I should probably start unpacking everything... but I was still having trouble accepting the fact that my dad did this to us.

I mean, who up and proposes to a woman he has only known for three months. Especially one so... high maintenance.

Don't get me wrong. My dad loves to take care of people. He has been taking care of me and Jenkins all by himself for as long as I can remember. But Deborah was impossible to please. Especially when my dad wasn't some rich CEO like her last husband who could fly her to Aruba every time she felt "overwhelmed" by the duties of a trophy wife.

No, my dad was an author. And as of recently, a very desperate one. After he completed his exceedingly popular series Otherworlds, Dad contracted a very serious case of Writer's Block. One that has lasted him almost three years.

And it wasn't just the fact that Dad couldn't come up with a new story. He couldn't handle the pressure of trying to top the Otherworlds series. The constant expectations and faith that his fans had in him to produce a story just as fascinating and engaging as his other books was too overwhelming for him. He crumbled.

Since then he has kept us afloat by taking up small editing jobs and substitute teaching. Which is why I don't understand Deborah's interest in him. He was a great guy, but he was nothing like any of her previous endeavors.

"Hey, Amelia," I looked up from my kneeled position on the floor to see my dad standing in the doorway. His short blond hair was combed flat, much unlike it's usual state of disarray from constantly running his fingers through it as he worked. He stood tall in a pair of black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a tie with cartoon bees flying all over it and the words 'To Bee Or Not To Bee' written across the bottom. "What do you think? I bought it at that cute little consignment shop on the boulevard."

I couldn't help but smile as I imagined the excitement my dad must have felt when he found it. Shakespeare was his favorite.

"I love it, Dad. And I'm sure everyone else will, too."

The grin on my dad's face faded as his eyes roamed around my room. With unopened boxes stacked everywhere, the only part of the room that looked lived in was my twin bed, which I failed to make this morning. And every morning for the past seventeen years.

"Ames..." Dad began, a sudden weariness in his voice. "You know, eventually you are going to have to start unpacking. You can't live out of boxes forever..."

My shoulders tensed. This wasn't the first time we had this conversation and I'm sure it won't be the last.

"Maybe not for forever, but definitely for the next year. Then I'll be at NYU and I'll unpack there." I resumed my search through the box in front of me, hoping my dad would get the hint that I didn't want to discuss this topic any further. His frown deepened.