Ch. 2 *Santa Carla*

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*16 year old Luna*

The drive to Santa Carla was longer then I expected, but definitely not boring. Their are so many things to see! Like the ocean, just to name one thing.

When you've lived your whole life in a forest, seeing this sight gives you an amazing feeling.

I exhale softly, sinking lower into my seat. Mom and Dad haven't talked much, beside quiet mumbles about how far we are from our new home.
We were forced to sell our old home, because Dad was transferred to Santa Carla for work.

My parents argued for three days and nights about this move, my Mom saying that we needed to stay, because it was so sentimental.
My Dad, on the other hand, kept repeating that we needed to let go, and move on from the past finally...

Move on, meaning from Star.

That entire house was a constant reminder of her, of our childhood...
Mom lives with the feeling that it was her and Dad's fault that their first born ran away from home, which leads to a depression that makes her cry out of nowhere, or keeps her locked in the bathroom for hours.

Dad though...he's become numb. He won't even bring up anything that has the word Star to it.
It used to anger me when I was young, that it was so easy for Dad to just bury those feelings for Star. But as I got older, I realized that he wasn't letting her go, instead, it was the only way for him to cope with the pain that's never ending.

We turn left on the highway, hitting the road that leads into Santa Carla.
And Ta-Da, the big billboard that says "WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA" is dead ahead of us.

I sit up in my seat to get a better look at the town we're moving too. It's big, but not city big. It's just the right size, especially for my parents.
The billboard passes us, and I can't help but look behind me, only to see the words "MURDER CAPITAL OF THE WORLD" spray painted on the other side of the billboard.

An unsettling feeling sinks in my chest.
"Hey, Dad?" I lean forward, "um, is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world?"

My mom gasps a little. "Where did you hear such a thing?!"
She's always been a high strung woman, especially when it comes to trust. Either of a new town, new friends, or a new workplace.

"Calm down, Maria," he says to Mom before looking at me through his mirror. "Supposedly, it is," he points out, "but those are just rumors. I've heard from some family of mine that Santa Carla is perfectly fine."

Dad doesn't say anything else, which means the conversation is over. Though I still have a ton of questions.
I sit back into my seat, staring out the window at the city we've just entered.

A few people have glared at me while walking down the sidewalk, and still, I can't help but get this creepy feeling in my chest.
...this is going to take some getting used to.

***

We pulled into the nearest gas station for some snacks and gas.
Dad is talking to a middle aged man whose rough around the edges, what they're talking about I have no idea, and I don't really care to be honest.

Mom is staring down at a wrinkled photo, and I take a quick peak, only to be hit with a sting of pain.
It's a four year old me, being held by an eight year old--who is smiling brightly--Star.

I can hear Mom sniffle a little, before she quickly shoves the picture in her pocket and leans against her door, crying softly.

I reach over and touch her shoulder comfortingly. It's all I can do in this moment.
"It's alright, mom," I whisper, but she doesn't respond, she just shakes her head and keeps crying.

My parents think Star is dead...but I don't think she is.
She has to be out there somewhere, I just know it.

Dad comes back five minutes later, and talks with us about what the man said.
"So, he told me that if we follow 5th Ave to the very end, we'll be faced with a dirt road. We need to follow the dirt road for five minutes before turning right and heading down there. It should be our private driveway."

He starts the car and we continue our drive. He doesn't bother to ask what's wrong with Mom, but he keeps his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly just like I did.

I sigh softly, before something catches my eye.
It's a boardwalk!
I gasp a little, getting super excited. Dad told me that Santa Carla has the biggest boardwalk in the entire state!

I lean forward. "Dad?! Can I go to the boardwalk please?!"
"Absolutely not!" Mom chimes in, "you're only 16 years old! We will go when we're ready."

"But Mom..." I whine, "I know what to do! Always avoid strangers, don't go off with anyone, keep to yourself. And I carry around my pepper spray just in case of emergencies! Can't I please go? We can offload my bike!"

"Luna!"

"Yeah, we can do that," Dad says, which makes Mom's jaw drop, and my eyes widen in pure joy.
"Thanks Dad!" I smile.
Mom gives him her meanest, dirtiest, glare.
You know for sure there's going to be an argument later...

It makes me feel a little guilty, knowing that it was me who would've caused it. But Dad's little wink and chuckle gives me a feeling that everything will be alright.
Mom's been extra protective of me, but Dad is easy going. He knows that I won't run off, he trusts me.

Dad pulls up to the parking lot and we jump out.
I help him undo the straps to my street bike, and I roll it off the trailer and get it chained so nobody can steal it.
"Now," Dad says, "be back home in two hours, alright?"

"Okay," I nod, checking my pockets for some cash just in case I want something.
I got $20 bucks, that should be enough, right? I hope so.

Dad hugs me, and soon he's in the car and driving away.
Mom stares at me through the mirror until she can't anymore.
And soon, I'm running into the entrance of the boardwalk.

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