KINGS AND QUEENS | J. JONES

Prologue: Girly

[PROLOGUE:GIRLY]

The four walls of the small car were suffocating. I felt like I couldn't breathe, but not just because of the small pine tree shaped air freshener that hung from the rear view mirror. 

"Al?"

I looked up at my mother. Her brown hair was cut to her chin and her dull brown eyes danced across the road in front of her. "Hm?" I hated how much I admired her.

"I'll fix it. I promise," she ran a hand through her hair and sighed, not even bothering to look at me. 

"Right," I said bluntly, staring straight ahead. 

"Girly, I will. You just need to give me some time," Lauren reasoned. 

There was that nickname again, Girly. She and my dad had started calling me that when I was four, and I remember loving it so much. I was the kind of little girl that wore multi-coloured tutu's and baby pink shirts that read "Dream Big" or "Love Life" in big, sequined letters. Oh, how things have changed.

"That's what you said last time, mom," I muttered. "It's always 'I'll fix it' or 'I just need time'. You know what, mom? I've given you time." 

I looked back out the window so I didn't have to see Lauren's pained expression. That was when I noticed that we were parked outside our new house. 

I'm not going to go on and on about how it had a secret beauty or anything, because to be honest, it was a run down pile of shit. There were overgrown weeds in the yard and I'm pretty sure the front window was smashed. 

Home, sweet home, am I right?

I angrily marched out of the car and slammed the door before getting my things from the back seat. Which wasn't much really, just a duffel bag full of clothes and a box or two with my very few things. Most of it was sheet music.

The inside of the house was just as bad as the outside. It looked like a group of homeless people had been squatting here, and it really gave me the creeps. 

I found a room that was situated at the back of the house, and I noticed that it had a conveniently sized window for sneaking out. Not that it would matter, anyway. Lauren doesn't care if I come home or not. 

I sat in the middle of the room. 

And I sat for hours.

When the sun started to go down, I decided to finally rise. I left the house through the front door, and Lauren didn't even object. Heck, I don't even think she was home. 

Things will change, she told me. Things will get better. Yeah, well I damn hope so.

If moving to Riverdale isn't my fresh start, I don't know what is.

;;

hello frens :)))
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