I've lived in so many different cities growing up due to my parents constant moving because of my fathers military duties. But my favourite and current location is Burnaby, British Columbia in Canada. The cedar and tall spruce trees and dark blue lakes seduced my dad to move here. He loved the way the city and nature were so close.
Me and my mom have always been really good at socializing with our neighbours. All except the family living behind our house, the Miller family. They were closed off and overall really hateful people. I still remember the day that paved the road for my hatred of Mrs. Miller.
It was a warm day in June, the sun was dead set in the middle of the sky with very few clouds for shade. I was wearing a tiny sun hat and these big white ugly shorts kids wore in the 2010's. My mom and I were going door-to-door greeting our new neighbours and having pleasant conversations with most of them, but then we approached this fancy house that was behind our house. I remember just sitting there and gawking at it telling my mom that the person inside must've been a princess, I was wrong, so very very wrong.
"Hello, I'm Erica Loveless and this is my daughter Aurora. We've just moved here and we're going around introducing ourselves to the neighbourhood," my mother started, her tone slightly higher and warm but the truth is that she's been practicing that line all morning until she stopped tripping over her words.
"Ah I see," Mrs. Miller said trying to close the door on us but my mom being the nosy woman that she is and jammed her foot in the door and kept trying to talk to her. Mrs. Johnson didn't talk to the whole time, she just stared daggers at me. I thought at the time it's just her face but she still stares does it to this day. Mrs. Miller glanced up at my mom finally, face still motionless like a corpse and crushed my mom's foot in the doorway by slamming her body against the heavy door.
My mother shrieked like a banshee as you would've expected and the people next door came over to help out her off their porch. I was terrified, my whole body was trembling and I didn't know what to do back then, I was only eight.
But from the things I heard about her, I guess she had a reason to be hateful towards little girls. Apparently their oldest son, Ace Miller, was attacked by an 11 year old girl when he was a five but I have no clue why she hated me. There was so much drama about this family that I could let out at any second, like how Mrs. Miller and Mr.Miller's relationship is strained and he cheats on her every night, even when their kids are there, but I don't because as much as I hated Mr. and Mrs. Miller, I loved their son Ace so much more.
He was like a prince- no, like a king, everything he touches is like gold to me; that soccer ball he kicked over the fence into my back yard or the notes he dropped on the way home from school, I collected them all. Even though he has never spoken a real word to me and we don't go to the same school, I set up a perfect timetable to see him everyday.
He's been my platonic love since I was nine and I saw him playing soccer outside my window, he looked up and smiled at me, but his mom never let me talk to him and would usher him away from me. She was extremely strict about him and his brother's friends. And It's not like my mom was keen on getting me to talk to the kid of woman who crushed her foot with a door so I've never really had the chance to talk to him but not only did that make my curiosity grow, it made my obsession on knowing him worse.
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My car came to a complete stop in my driveway, I truly love this neighbourhood, it's the perfect place to watch the sunset and from my room I get the best view. Not only can I see the sunset and the colours that spill into my room from the window onto my bed, I get to see straight through into his window and I have a bit of the layout of the backyard so I can see him practice.
