Love To Hate You (EDITING)

ONE

The empty room looked back at me like a reminder of what I'd be missing in my entire life ahead. Something about leaving everything behind to move to a new city, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, made anxiety claw its way to my throat.

A loud noise of a moving box falling downstairs startled me, and I chuckled. Mom was being clumsy as always. Some things just never change. "Willow, are you done?" I heard her and nodded before realizing that she couldn't see me. "Yes, Mom! I'm coming down in a few," I yelled back while taking down the last posters of all my favorite bands over the years.

I grabbed my bags and took a final look at my room, my now old room. Where my entire childhood was spent. Where I lost my first tooth. Where I talked to myself for hours. Yes, I do that. With a final look at the empty space, waiting to be filled with the presence of a new person, I closed the door behind me.

No matter how many times I mentally tried to prepare myself that everything was going to be okay, I never truly felt okay with moving to some town called Breckenridge. Even the name is giving me panic because, let's be honest, what the heck is even Breckenridge? The only thing reminding me that this place was my home once was the markings of my heights Mom had drawn over the years. 5 years old, 7 years old, 9 years old. I wish we could've taken them with us, but I don't think the new owners would have appreciated a missing piece of the wall.

"Finally! You're here," my mom said, smiling like a kid. At least one of us is happy about this whole moving thing. I don't blame her for being so happy; she needs this to happen because the amount of opportunities in this town is nothing compared to this new place we're moving to. I mean, she already got a job waiting for her, and that's the whole reason we're moving. Better opportunities.

The familiar smell of our car hit me as I tried to fit all of our luggage in the trunk, and it felt like forever until we could finally fit everything. While Mom started the car, I looked out the window at the familiar surroundings and slumped a little. The big, green trees, the garden my mom put so much time into, and the small little house she worked so hard to buy. I was content here, in my own little bubble.

"It's going to be okay. Everything's fine, Willow," the voice of my mother interrupted my thoughts, and I gave her a little smile. "I know, Mom." It's not fair of me to make things difficult for her because I know she's doing this mostly for me. There's no making a life in this small town when people are born to fail and be stuck here forever.

You may wonder, well, who am I? The clown of the town. Some may even call me a troublemaker. Very cliche, but you know, sensitive people can't handle a bit of excitement and daring. I'm Willow Edwards. Seventeen years old and an only child. Yay. I hate tomatoes, and I discovered that when I was seven and my mom put tomatoes in my sandwich. Instead of throwing the tomato away like a normal person would, I threw it at my classmate's perfectly pink princess dress. She was talking too much. I do not have daddy issues because I've never had a dad to have issues with; he worked in a construction company and died in a work accident.

I do believe in love, but I do not believe that I'm one to find love. Also, boys are just a no.

The sudden hard brake made by my precious mother sent me flying forward, hitting my head on the window.

"Sorry!"

"I think I'm having a concussion."

Good start. I have such a good feeling about the future ahead. Not.