Craving (Old Vamp & Shapeshifter Story I Wrote)

Chapter 1

1 year later

“I don’t want to move, Mom.” I argue. “I can’t leave now! I’m finally in with the popular girls! Its not fair!”

“Its too late now. I’ve sold the house and that is that.” She crosses her arms. “Now finish packing up.”

Mom walks out the door, and I sigh, picking up a book, then I hurl it into the box. Its a hardcover, so it makes a loud SMACK!. Another book. SMACK! Another book. SMACK!

I wait for Mom to come up and yell at me, but she doesn’t, so I keep shoving books in the box, trying to get rid of my fury, but all that results is a messy box of books.

I flop down on my bed and start to sob into my fluffy magenta pillow with a mustache on it. I pound the covers.

“No No No!” I cry. “I can’t move. I can’t. Its just a bad dream. Its all a bad dream. You’re actually the daughter of some famous person living in a mansion and is in a coma.”

But bad dreams never last this long.

I rub my tears and cram another book in the box. Then I finally hear Mom’s stomping on the stairwell.

“AUTUMN ALLISON MARSON!!!!” She screams. “DO NOT MAKE ME COME IN THERE!!”

“Sorry.” I groan, and fling a paperback in there. I hear Mom go back downstairs, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

After about an hour of packing, my smartphone vibrates in my pocket. I lift it out and I see one of my friends, Sara, is calling.

“Hi girl! Wazzup?” She asks.

“Packing. For the move.” I sigh.

“At least its pretty cool your Mom is going to open a ski resort. You’ll be rich, girl!”

“Rich? My Mom is going to make me work there for my whole life without even paying me.”

“Thats an exaggeration.”

“Shes probably going to make me quit high school to work there. A child equals free labor in her eyes.”

“Oh come on, it’s not going to be that bad. Stop being so pessimistic. Just take a break. Eat some cookies, listen to some music. Then just keep packing.”

“Alright. I should go, before my Mom yells at me. You know how shes been with the divorce even though she got most of the money. She was better before it even happened.”

“Yeah. Well, anyways, bye!” Sara chimes, and then hangs up. I sigh, and shove my smartphone back into my pocket. I want to just die.

I wish I did when I got lost one year ago.

 

“Time to leave Autumn! Your friends are waiting!” I hear Mom call.

“Okay, one minute!” I scream, and lift the red crayon from the wall. I drew a smiley face and I was here on the aqua wall. I throw the crayon in the empty closet, and pick up my suitcase. Besides the crayon on the wall, theres nothing left to signify I lived here. Another girl will move in and take my room. My room. The room I have lived in for my whole life. Until now.

I drag the suitcase out and down the stairs.

“Goodbye, house.” I whisper, sighing. I wish I didn’t have to leave. I wish I could just stay here with Dad. He wishes I could live with him, too, but Mom usually gets what she wants, and so therefore I can only see Dad on Easter, the day before christmas, and a week before my birthday.

All of my friends have gathered on the lawn for a farewell party, but its not very much of a party. More like a farewell crowd.

Everyone hugs me.

“Bye! Good luck! Have fun!” Everyone shouts.

“Bye!” I say, hugging the last person, and getting in the car. Mom turns the key in the ignition, and we back out of the driveway, and drive. She stops with the phony smile and purses her lips together.

“Your friends at your new school will be better, I hope.” Mom says, turning off of Elmwood Drive for the last time. Ever.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“Oh, nothing. Just trying to comfort you. I know how you’ve been about the move. But when we get there we’ll go get ice cream! How about that?”

“I’m not four years old, Mom.” I mutter, and stare out the window.

“Alright, alright. We’ll go to the mall.” Mom offers.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here in Albany, New York.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll get to visit your friends when you visit your father.”

“3 times a year, Mom. 3 times. A year.” I take out my smartphone and text

Kayli.

Autumn Marson: This drive is already getting awkward after 5 minutes.

Kayliana Sanders: ikr. Family is soooo annoying.

Autumn Marson: I’ll die of embarrassment before I even get there.

Kayliana Sanders: If you could die of embarrassment, I would’ve ten years ago.

Autumn Marson: Ikr. LOL.

Kayliana Sanders: LOL.

 

After two hours of driving, (sounds fun, right?) we turn onto Azalea Road and we’re at the soon-to-be ski resort. It actually doesn’t look half bad. Theres lots of windows and numerous balconies.

A sign sits on the lawn, that says Riverwood Ski Resort.

“Come on out.” Mom smiles and nods. I get out of the car and take out my earbuds. I grab my suitcase and set it on the black pavement. “Our house should be on the property right over . . . there!”

We walk to a modern looking ski condo and I gasp. Its beautiful. Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all.

Mom turns the key in the lock.

“All of the new furniture has been set up, so you don’t have to do much except unpack.”

“New furniture?”

“Thats right. I sold all of the old stuff on Ebay. I hope you don’t mind. But your new room will be glamorous! I hired an interior designer and everything!” Mom smiles. “I know its been hard with the move, but you need to make the best of it.”

The door clicks open and I grin. The living room has cream white pull out sofas and a flat screen TV, plus the new GameBoX. Theres serene paintings dotting the walls, including a hand turkey from first grade. Then we enter the dining room. Theres a mahogany table, and a dazzling chandelier. The kitchen is brand-new and totally Ikea style. Then finally, I go into my room.

The room has cherry wood panels on the walls, a loft bed with fuschia covers and cerulean pillows, and under a white desk with twinkling butterfly lights. Theres also a walk-in closet, my very own private bathroom, and a large window that stretches from the floor to ceiling.

“Thanks Mom. I love it!” I peek in the private bathroom and the walk-in closet.

“I’m glad.” Mom nods, and goes out. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

I start with the books I had viscously thrown in the boxes, and shelf them, and then I start hanging up clothing in the walk-in closet.

Then I flop on my new loft bed and hug my mustache pillow. Home Sweet Home.