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Dreams Do Come True: Prologue

“Avery?”

I looked up from my laptop, raising my eyebrow in a silent question as I took in my sister’s appearance. With her knitted top and high-waist shorts, I assumed she was going somewhere.

She looked disdainfully at my own attire, a pair of black pajama pants and a baggy grey shirt. “I’m going out with Todd. Don’t burn the house down.”

I shrugged and gazed down at my computer again, immediately cast into the world of Tumblr yet again. I faintly heard her sigh and close the door to my room, a small room with Christmas lights surrounding the walls and posters hung up between those.

I grabbed a spoonful of Nutella as I layed down, placing the laptop on my shirt-clad stomach as I leaned my head against the headboard, reblogging a picture of Niall smiling.

After reblogging a couple more things, I looked down to find my Nutella and Lays gone and the sun gone. I frowned. This always happened!

Sighing, I got up with a grunt and padded downstairs to the kitchen, leaving my precious laptop laying open on my bed.

As I rummaged through the fridge, I looked at the clock on the microwave and my frown deepened.

3:38

Lily was always back by midnight.

Shrugging, I forgot about that as I grabbed a jar of chocolate flavored yogurt and a spoon from the drawer beside me. Then I went back upstairs to live in ignorance of what was happening to my sister.

I never forgave myself.

After that night, I drew back from society even more than I had been already. This meant that I pretty much didn’t socialize with anything if it wasn’t over the internet. My parents had the police and Lilly’s investigation to worry about so they didn’t notice how I never left my room. The only exception was to get food, and even then they didn’t make any move to talk to me.

After the summer ended and I was expected to go to school, I did it with no word back. My parents were still out of it and kept their eyes on the door most days. Even when the police stopped looking for my sister-- or, rather, her body-- they still kept the hope they still had after months of no word from her. Even when the police discovered her boyfriend, Todd’s, body, they still kept the only thing they had left; their hope.

It was a cool winter morning on a Saturday when I was interrupted by a ding coming from my computer. I had multiple tabs open, so it didn’t surprise me as much as it peaked my curiosity. I recognised the ding from the Twitter notification noise, but I knew that I only followed celebrities on Twitter. So, I sat back, grabbed another tortilla chip, and clicked on the Twitter tab.

My eyes furrowed when I saw it was a DM. Still curious, I clicked on it without looking at who sent it.

I let out a breath when I realized it was my father.

Come talk downstairs.

I took my bottom lip in between my teeth as I debated if I should ignore it or go see what was going on. In all honestly, I’ve never had him call me downstairs before. It had to be pretty serious if he did.

I begrudgingly got up from the spot I had been in since I got home from school and thumped down the stairs.

“She lives!” my mother announced as I plopped down onto the couch beside her.

I gave her a weird look, the fact that she hasn’t been perky like this in months not going by un-noticed. “I never died.”

The mention of the ‘D’ word brought her down from her high and I immediately felt bad when the sparkle in her eyes that I had missed so much vanished. The small impish grin that she had also vanished and it was replaced with a grim line.

“Avery, don’t talk to your mother like that.”

His voice startled me somewhat and my head snapped to the direction where my father sat, his hands placed neatly in his lap like a symbol of normalcy in the house.

“Like what? I was stating a fact.”

“Your tone didn’t sound like it.”

I scoffed, but stayed silent.

A couple of tense seconds passed before my mother stood up and walked over to the couch opposite of me to sit next to my father.

Rejected, my thoughts were bitter as I raised a sarcastic eyebrow towards them and sunk further into the couch.

The next sentence that came out of my father’s mouth surprised me, not only because it was so abrupt, and that he wasn’t known for his abruptness, but also because of what the sentence contained.

“We’re moving to London.”

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