Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter One:

The coffee sloshes out of the cup as I fumble with placing my car keys into my white crossover bag.

"Shit," I hiss as it burns my thumb. Brown liquid dripping off my finger and onto the neatly kept sidewalk. I never knew that was a thing before stepping foot into this neighborhood. Where everything looks like it's pulled straight from a movie scene. Large green trees line the street. Branches greet one another with lush green leaves. Roads perfectly paved without a pothole in sight. Birds chirp like they did when you woke up in the morning as a kid. Everything is fresh and clean. Even the air here is crisp. Like it's refilling my lungs, cleaning out all the toxins I've accumulated over the years.

Each house is unique in its own way. Some massive Victorian homes with rich molding and white picket fences. Other homes are newer with more modern style.

I can only imagine what it's like to live in a neighborhood such as this one. I imagine they step outside in the morning to grab the paper from the end of the drive and wave to their neighbors. They all enjoy gardening and tend to their rose bushes and strawberry patches in the back.

It's like I've stepped into Pleasantville. I want nothing more than to have this life one day. Waking up to this air, to this gorgeous scenery. To be a part of this lifestyle.

I adjust my bag, take a sip of my coffee before lazily placing it on the curb by my car, and then with my free hand, fluff up my long, brown hair that, thankfully, I just got done yesterday. I went a shade lighter than my usual dark chocolate look. Now it's more of a milk chocolate tone, perfect for the warming spring weather.

My eyes fall upon the house. Not just any house. The Bytheseas. Their home is a mix of modern and old. It has a large grass lawn in the front, with short green hedges following the outline of the front. A white stone pathway directs me to the front door. The house is French country style, with green vines stretching across. The front doorway is a large stone arch. It's hard to describe the beauty of the house. It's almost unreal. I feel unworthy to even be stepping foot on their stone pathway. Like my lack of wealth oozes out of me. The house knows it, despite my efforts to hide it from the world.

Nervously, my hand extends, freshly done red nails push into the doorbell. An old timey bell rings out, echoing throughout the house. I listen as it chimes. As I await the door to open, I run a hand along my white dress pants that flare out slightly at the bottom. My sweetheart-neckline beige sweater begins to feel scratchy as I push the sleeves up to my elbows. I may not have come from wealth like the Bytheseas, but at least I don't look it.

Suddenly, the door is flying open, and a woman who appears to be in her late twenties or early thirties greets me with a wide grin. Her front tooth is slightly crooked. But her teeth are so white they nearly blind me. Her lips are painted with a pink blush color. She's younger than I thought she would be. Though she did mention the child was six. Yet, somehow, with a house this size, I only assumed the people living here were older. At least older than she appears to be. How large is our age gap? Are we actually closer in age than I thought?

One of her hands is on the door while the other is on her hip. "Hi! Are you Reign?" She asks in an enthusiastic tone. At least she appears to be friendly.

I nod, straightening my back. "Yes," I flash a smile and extend my hand out to hers. "It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Bythesea." It sounds strange addressing her in this proper manner.

She doesn't correct me or tell me to call her by her first name. Instead, she opens the door wider and ushers me in. "I can't tell you how excited I am that you responded to our nanny position. You seem to be exactly what my husband and I are looking for. Everyone has been too old, too creepy, too inexperienced." She huffs and shuts the door behind me.