Chapter 2: Awkward

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Chapter 2: Awkward

 I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad when we get off the plane. Happy for finally being able to move properly, or sad because we're here.

My mom moves ahead of us leading the way, my dad and I trailing behind her like lost puppies.

"It's not going to be that bad kiddo, Sutton's a nice place" My dad says, ruffling my hair like he did when I was younger.

Instead of responding I simply nod, I know he's trying to make me feel better, but I don't think anything can.

I adjust the strap on my bag that is filled with the little things salvageable from the burnt debris of my house; a few shirts, socks, pants, and some pictures. I remember dad handing me them, they were the only things left untouched.

"Claire!" The sound of somebody calling my mom's name snaps me out of my pity party. Standing by the baggage belt is a woman around my mothers age.

My mom walks toward the woman and hugs her, they exchange some words and their gazes sweep over to dad and I. I smile to be polite and make my way to them.

So this is the 'old friend' they were talking about.

"Stella, this is Anne, she is letting us stay at her house" Mum tells me gesturing towards her friend.

"Thank you" I mumble quietly to Anne. She is quite tall the heels she is wearing adding to her height, and her hair is light blond.

"Oh she's a sweatheart Claire, so beautiful too" Anne smiles to my mother.

"Thank you again for everything, Anne. We wont stay long, we'll find a property soon"  My dad voices from behind me

"It's my pleasure, David. Now come on, let's get to the house you all must be tired from the flight."

***

"Stella" I feel a hand on my knee stirring me awake. I open my eyes reluctantly to see my mom. "We're almost there" 

I groan tiredly, I must have fallen asleep. Watching the seemingly endless forest pass through the window for hours on end can get boring, especially when mom wouldn't stop talking to Anne.

I sit up now, my neck is stiff and the stinging of my burns hurt more than I'm used to. The medication is wearing off, so I'll have to take my next dose soon. I look out the tinted window of the car and it's dark out, but I'm not sure if that's from the lack of sun, or the tall trees surrounding us blocking it from view. Anne drives the car for another five minutes before a large house comes into view. It isn't a monstrosity, but it is considered in no ways small. 

Almost manicured gardens stretch around the front of the property. We drive up the road and through a set of black iron gates that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Anne parks the car in the driveway, and pushes a button on the steering wheel. Ahead of us the garage door, or should I say doors, open. She steers through them and we all get out.

I clutch my bag in my hands, my knuckles without a doubt taking on a white color, and follow my parents and Anne. We walk up the wooden porch and into the house, the sweet aroma of cinnamon hits my nose almost instantly.

"I've been trying out a new recipe for an apple pie" Anne informs us while talking off her coat. She takes ours and places them on a coat rack "Come Claire, you must try it. I think perfected it, it called for-" her voice fades as she drags mom away and threw an arch way leading to what I presume to be the kitchen.

"David!" A raspy voice exclaims and turn to see my dad standing next to a man. They pat eachother on the back and shake hands while laughing deeply, about what I have no idea. "I knew I heard the car pull up"

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