New York To Los Angeles

Chapter 18 - Sasha's Point Of View

I pulled into the grand driveway, the gravel crunching under the car's tires. The large house in front of us practically screamed wealth and status, looking like something out of a magazine. The driveway was one of those curved ones, a beautiful fountain placed opposite the front entrance. The water fountain was a basic structure with several tiers that the water cascades into and over. Three stories tall, it's black-tinted glass balcony is at the centre of the second level, contrasting against the white walls behind it. The third level consists of two triangles, the black roofing glinting in the sunset. Match the grand look of the house with the small but professionally kept hedge garden and you can see why most people think this would be an awesome place to live in. Little did they know that a great house doesn't necessarily mean a great home; there's a big difference.

I should know, I've been living in it for the past seventeen years. I open the double garage using the remote in my silver Honda Civic and park inside, closing the garage doors behind me. Gathering my things quietly so I don't wake up Felicity who's snoring away in the back of the car I quickly run through the door leading into the house and dump them in my room; before sprinting back to my sister. I gently carry her through into the house, her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

The first level of the house held the two living rooms, the kitchen, one movie room and the living arrangements for Antonio and Madeline, the butler and housekeeper. The whole level was painted in white, keeping up with the theme and black carpet covered all the rooms. While it was an amazing looking house, there was no homey feel to it. The main living room, designed to show off, made you feel like an outsider like you couldn't even curl up on the couch without damaging the expensive items in the room. It's a waste of space if you ask me, we don't need such a big house for our family of four, my parents are barely home, hence the reason why we have a butler and a maid, and if it's not like the tens of rooms around here are used regularly.

I walk past the kitchen towards the front of the house where the black, wooden staircase leading to second level is. The second level is where Felicity and I have our rooms as well as where the guest rooms are. On the second floor landing the hallway broke out in two ways, to the left there was the spiralling staircase that lead to the third floor, past that were the four guest bedrooms and two bathrooms. To the right we had one bathroom two more guest bedrooms and towards the end Felicity's and I's bedrooms. Felicity's bedroom stands out amongst the four white doors, the glittering stars and name plaque stands out from the bland design style the house is covered in.

Opening her bedroom door I thank my lucky stars that my sister never went through the 'pink phase', her favourite colour being lilac purple instead. The room was bathed in the colour, from the purple princess bed sheets to the purple and white bookcase, even thought the shades of purple varied it was still a little overpowering. I lay Felicity down on her bed, placed in the centre of the room and tuck her in, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. For a few minutes I stare at my little sister fondly. No matter how old she gets she'll always be my baby sister, a smile lights my face as I remember the times we've spents painting each others' nails or braiding each other's hair. My sister was one of the closest people to me and I'm going to make sure she never makes the same mistakes I did.

Above Felicity's bed's headboard was a large window that had a view of the back yard which, once again was more of something to look at rather than spend time in, not including the swimming pool of course.

With a sigh I leave my sister's room and walk downstairs, following the smell of chocolate cake. A smile lights up my face as I picture the scrumptious cake Madeline has made. The pressure to be the skinny, fussy eater all cheerleaders are thought to be means that at school the only lunch I eat is a bowl of salad...yum! Not. Not like I could eat anything other than that without all the cheerleaders giving me one of those horrified looks. The only exception being Lily, she never seems to judge people and is one of the only ones who doesn't participate in the gossip at cheer practise.