Inside the book was a photo album. On each page were photos of Rosewood, the Montgomerys, the rooms of their house, and other things that i may need to recognise when i make my trip to Rosewood myself. I had never seen photos of their house before, so it made the whole thing seem a lot more real and exciting. There was a lot of dark wood and artistic features to the house. It was unique and slightly unusual looking, but still had a cosy, homely look to it. I think it looks beautiful; it looks much better than the cold cottage I live in now with ancient looking wallpaper and old smelling furniture. At first I had wondered why the photos were taken from such odd angles. They looked although the photographer hadn't wanted to be seen. Then I realised they were taken for some sort of art project, as Aria mentioned her boyfriend had got her an artsy camera once.
Smiling, I put everything I had taken from the box back in and rammed it under my bed once more. I didn't want my adoptive parents to find out about this before I feel comfortable telling them myself, which would have to be soon as I want to go as soon as possible. I then stood up, with a sigh, and made my way downstairs.
I must've been longer than I thought I was, because it was now 11AM. My Dad was at work, and my Mum was probably outside playing duck duck goose with the chickens. I sat down on our old brown sofa. It was July, so It was the summer holidays and i was 16, so had just finished high school. Most people in my year would be preparing for college, but I didn't know whether I would spend the rest of my life here or 3000 miles away. In America, I would still be in high school, anyway. I had no plans, so headed down to the beach with my camera. As much as I loved the Cornish beaches, I hoped this would be my last time visiting them before I left.
I walked along the steep hill from the row of cottages where my home was to the sea shore. The path was rocky, but i was used to it so didn't trip up like I used to. I loved walking this way, as the section of beach it lead to didn't have many holidaymakers. I felt like I owned the beach and i could escape here. i came here a lot when my adoptive father was going through an abusive stage. This was when I first started to think I was different. I was the complete opposite of my adoptive parents.
I remembered how I was calm and not really phased when I received my first email from my sister, Aria. Knowing my adoptive parents, they will probably go ballistic. I sat on a rock in the sun while i played out different scenarios in my head of what could happen when I told my parents about my plans. None of my little scenarios seemed to go well.