"Well, that's the last box. Now we just need to un-pack everything." Mom sighed. My mom is 5 foot 3 with brown eyes, and one foot long, dark brown hair. She was wearing her normal-type outfit; loose jeans, maroon crocs, bright neon yellow t-shirt, and around her neck, a golden necklace that has a weird circle with a turquoise jewel in the middle.
I, however looked nothing like my mom. I am 15, 5 foot 1 and have big, brown eyes, with dirty blond hair to match. I'm wearing skin tight skinny jeans, and a sky blue t-shirt with the words "American Eagle" written across the front in black lettering. My full name is Willamarine, but everyone's always called me Willa ever since my dad started calling me that. And it just stuck.
"Yeah? Well then I guess you better get started, huh?" I catechized. I turned to walk away, but was interrupted before I could get any further.
"Not so fast Willa." My face crunched up as I stopped in my tracks, and listened to what my mom had to say. "If you want all your stuff after I'm done, you better help me, or else I'll keep one item of yours for every box you don't help me unpack." She crossed her arms and smiled like she just thought up loop-holes or something.
"What?!" I threw my bare arms up in the air, allowing them to fall to my sides. "That is so not fair! I shouldn't have to unpack this crap just to keep mine." I stared down at one of the boxes while arguing.
"Well, my offer stands." She answered, going back to what she was doing previous to our conversation.
"Actually, I think I'm just going to explore. Around town and stuff."
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The People in the Trees
Ficção AdolescenteWilla just moved to Siloam, Arkasas with her family. She wants friends, but nobody is listening to her. First, she tried telling her mom and dad. When that didn't work, she told a few of her classmates. Slowly, all the rumors of Willa and her storie...
