In A World of My Own - Book One

1. The Other Side of the Door

"If you ever get scared, Adara," Mom said, knelt in front of me to be at eyelevel. Her wisteria-colored eyes were wide as if she was spooked but she was trying to smile, attempting to look braver than how she felt, I guess. We were in my bedroom in front of my closet that was brimming with Littlest Pet Shop toys. "Or if anything...hopelessly freaky ever happens, I want you to run to your closet, okay? No questions asked, just hide, understand?"

What was I supposed to say?

I was six then and readily smiled. I was missing my first tooth and just loved to show off the gap, plus I thought she was kidding around. "Sure, Mom."

Mom's eyes wandered away from me to the closed closet door. Then she forced another smile. "Just promise me you won't forget to close the door all the way, it's gotta latch, alright?"

"Sure, Mom," I said with a six-year old's eye roll. "I po-miss."

That was then but this is now.

"Watch out, loser!" Seniors yell out the window of their truck as they race past me on a bend in the road. Their tires zip over the white line with a screech.

I shriek as I jerk my bicycle off to the side, the front wheel slips and I lose control of it. I scream as I half-fall, half slide down a steep embankment, squeezing my handlebars for dear life. I hear the bullies' smug laughter and the loud roar of their engine as they race by overhead. I crash onto a pile of rocks at the bottom of the ditch. I groan with pain as I untangle myself from my bike. "Oh no," I groan again as I look the battered bike over. I heave a sigh as I start to haul it back up to the road. This is going to be a long walk home.

Eventually, I'm limp my bicycle up my driveway, the broken chain prattles across the pavement and the crooked handles keep trying to make it veer off to the right. I drop it finally and stagger inside. "Sorry I'm later than usual!" I call to Mom as I hurry in the kitchen, I eagerly pour myself some lemonade and down it as if I just hiked through the Sahara. "My chain kinda...broke," I gulp. I anxiously lock myself in my room before Mom sees me looking like roadkill, and swiftly jump in the shower to wash away yet another calamitous school day. A few minutes later I throw on an oversized pale purple tunic tank with a heart made of white stretched-out lace over it and a comfy faded pair of mini shorts that have white lace dotted over them like roses.

My tiny orange kitten, Dinah, pads after me with a series of meows as I head to the kitchen for a snack. "Mom?" I call as I grab a muffin. "Hey, what'd you do today?" She doesn't answer. I wander to her bedroom. "Mom? Do anything fun...?"

There she is. She is sitting on the edge of her bed staring out the window, a blank look covering her pretty face, her eyes are unfocused and wide. I frown with concern. Even despite the vacant look though, Mom is utterly gorgeous. Yeah, we don't look the first thing alike. She has super long black hair that forms these graceful ringlets falling all the way down to her hips. Her skin is so fair, it looks snow white most days and her lips are naturally dark, and her eyes are pale amethyst and twinkle even in dull lights. She's magical looking all on her own but especially with all the charms and layers of necklaces and stacks of rings she wears.

"Umm? Mom? Hel-lo?" I step into the room.

Mom very slowly blinks. When her eyes close, she jolts and now they fly open. "Can't be..." she mumbles as she rubs her temples.

"Mom?"

"Oh! Adara!" She startles but is all bright smiles as she turns to look at me. "Hey, there's my Tay Tay!"

I roll my eyes. "That joke's getting old," I only mumble this though, secretly pleased that my mom seems to think that Taylor Swift and I look like long lost twins, and the fact I love to write music makes Mom's long-running joke even funnier for her, I'm sure.