Nᴏᴛ Gᴀʏ {Tᴇᴇɴ/Jᴏʜɴʟᴏᴄᴋ}

№ 3

"We're moving."

I slowly opened my eyes. "Sorry, what?" I asked groggily, finding myself in a hospital bed, wearing uncomfortable clothing that looked like scrubs. Mum was sitting in front of me, her car keys in her right hand and a wrinkle of anxiety between her brows.

"We need to move to a nicer - a safer - part of town."

I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in my shoulder pushed me back down. My mum sighed, biting her lip and looking anxiously out the window. "I can't have you risk your life by merely walking," she said. I gritted my teeth against the pain and laid my head completely in the pillow beneath me.

"We've lived here my whole life, Mum," I said. "This is the first relatively bad thing that's happened. I don't want you to struggle any more than you already are."

My logic was ignored as my mother stood up and began to walk out the door. "I've already settled it," she said. "We move in a week from tomorrow. Tell me if there's anything you want to donate."

She almost slammed the door behind her, and I sighed in frustration, closing my eyes and wishing to go back to sleep.

What good would come out of moving?

☯

"Here we are," the cabbie said enthusiastically. "Your new home. Make sure not to scratch the car when you take the things out of the boot. Just got a fresh paint job."

I slung my backpack, which included all the possessions I wanted to keep, over my good shoulder as Harry took a box out of the boot. She had dark circles under her eyes, as she had just stayed over at her friend's home last night. She turned to our mother and asked, "Is Dad ever coming?"

Mum took a few boxes out of the car, letting Harry do the rest, and crossed her arms over her chest. "He was at a bar again last night," she said, "so, knowing him, he may not even know where we've moved until tomorrow."

This wasn't news to me, so I cautiously walked inside. "Mum," I asked, "Which room is mine?"

Harry immediately piped up, saying, "The first floor is mine! Mum should get the ground floor. And you can sleep downstairs with the spiders." She hissed through her teeth, her curly hair blowing all around her in the light breeze.

"Harriet!" Mum reprimanded her. I actually didn't mind staying in the basement. The windows were level with the ground, so it would be easy to evacuate in a fire. And it never got too hot in a basement. So I slowly walked down the stairs, wincing each time I moved my shoulder, and eventually arrived at the bottommost level of our new home.

It was large and grey, and there was a normal-sized bedroom connected to it with a window looking out at the trees, which were either red or completely bare. I dropped my knapsack on the ground and rolled out a sleeping bag on top of a few blankets. This would do.

Coming back upstairs, I took my pain medication and began to explore the house. It was small, yet comfortable. The windows were large and bright, and the air was full of floating dust. I liked the smell of the place. It was warm and smoky and comforting.

A knock at the door sparked my attention, and I turned toward the noise.

"Could you get the door, John?" Mum called from the other room, so I walked over to it and opened it up as wide as it possibly went, letting it bounce off the wall and reveal four people; a mum, a dad, and two others that were hidden behind them.

"Hello," the woman said, holding out a plate of baked things. "We're your new neighbours! We live just across the street."

"Oh, hi," I said. "Thank you."