A Girl With a Thousand Memories

Chapter One

On my way home....

"Hello?" I say into my phone, once after answering it and not paying attention to the number displayed beforehand.

The other end of the line remains silent.

After i put the phone away, I continue walking down the back road to my grandparents' house. One of those nice, small town country homes that sit on many acres. As I come to the back gate, my phone rings again in my messenger bag. Probably just prank calls, I think to myself.

There's a rusty bicycle in a garden, over by the shed, that my grandma thought would improve the look of the yard. It does. If you like rusty bicycles with dead flowers...

My grandpa's toolbox sits untouched on the back porch step, open with the wrench still there in the same position on the outside of the box where he left it a week ago.

I open the back door leading into the kitchen. "Granma, I'm home."

The house is silent, delude of anything that my grandparents usually do around this place. No cooking. No music. No paint smells. Nothing.

I go upstairs to their room. Their bed made, untouched still from this morning's awakening. Granma's glasses lay still folded on the bedside table.

I wish I could say that she was just out for a walk, maybe gardening, or doing what most grandparents do during retirement... But I can't. Not after my grandpa's passing. Nothing's been the same. And I remember that he's gone and I can't come home to him or his not-so-funny jokes. I just have this funny feeling...

I also wish I had a mom or dad or a sibling to talk to but with my luck, no one would care anyway... My mom and dad died in a car accident while arguing about their misfortunes, taking my bratty sister with them. All that love I gave them, making straight A's up until that point in life and all they thought about was what they didn't have and couldn't find in themselves.

I go take a shower, giving me that perfect time that everyone gets when they take a shower to think about their lives and what mistakes they've made in the process.

After that's over and done, I flip my hair, looking out my second story window that looks out over the front lawn. A black SUV pulls into the drive, the windows tinted and looking so out of place in this area that's so open, where people usually leave windows down, nothing close to a shade or tint.

I pull on an old shirt and some shorts as I walk downstairs and hear the rasping at the door.

On the other side stands a young guy a foot away from the door. His hair disheveled and his clothes more formal than I have ever seen around here. His head tilts slightly when I bring my eyes to his.

"Who are you?" I ask as I take a glance over at his SUV, the one of which I assume he came out of.

"That's no way to greet someone at your doorstep ya know."

His mouth turns up in a grin, his eyes glowing.

"I'm sorry. I'm probably just jealous of your ride." I say and stand with my right side up against the door jam.

"Oh yeah? Well, wanna go for a ride? I need to talk to you."

"Talk to me? About what? I don't know if you know this, but we've never met before."

"We just did," the guy extends his hand out to me. "Hello, I'm Shane."

I stare at his hand. I look at him. Back to his hand. Him. His hand. Him....

He lets his hand fall.

"Hello, I'm Shane." his hand extends again. Brushing mine softly now, lifting it up and letting it fall, leaving his hand extended and still empty.