"Sarina! Do not walk out that door!" my mother called out in her usual commanding voice as I marched, angrily, to the front entrance of my boringly grand house. Everything was bloody perfect and it was driving me insane.
My life was picture-perfect. I got everything I needed and wanted, but I was tired of it. Grateful, yes, but tired.
Everything was wonderful, just to a fault. Was I lucky? Perhaps you could say that, but would you really consider an only child that was home-schooled their entire life, lucky?
From pre-school to college, I was forced to do everything online or have private teachers. It was hell. The only friends I had were the people that I mingled with online that went to the same school as me. My parents told me I had plenty of friends, but their co-workers are not my friends, or the men and women that my parents introduced me to at dinner parties.
"Watch me," I said in an even tone when I stopped in front of the door to look at her.
She was just at the bottom of the regal stairs, looking flushed in her summer dress. Her face was red with anger and frustration, and her small hands were balled into fists at her sides. I was almost a splitting image of her—almost. The only difference was my light brown eyes, light honey colored skin, and brown hair that I dyed blonde ombre. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw it.
With one final look at her, I wrenched open the overly fancy door and almost ran out, happy to finally be free. I got in my brand new black mini cooper that my father just recently got me for my 23rd birthday. I was spoiled to the bone, but I wasn't a selfish brat like the kids I saw in movies.
I looked at my house through my rearview mirror and pushed on the gas a little more. On the outside, my life was perfect, but on the inside, it was the perfect hell.
My mother had a horrible past, so she felt that it was her duty to protect me from the world because the world was, supposedly, an "evil place". As you probably already know, I'm still a virgin. I've never had a boyfriend and never had sex. I've never even had my first kiss, for crying out loud! I felt so lame. As if I've failed at becoming a woman. I did make efforts to have a regular life. I applied for jobs and tried to make friends, but my mother kept telling me that I have everything that I need at home and insisted on keeping me there. I never told her about my desire to leave home because I knew it would drive her up the wall and down the street, maybe even to China.
As a kid, I had a tight schedule. My mother had me do things that I felt were pointless for a child my age. It all felt so petty and because it was mandatory, I couldn't properly enjoy what I was doing. I do remember cooking being fun, though.
Cooking and baking are my strong points and I didn't mind the classes every Tuesday and Thursday. Every now and then, my mother and I would whip something fun up together and that was the only time we got along because it was the only thing we genuinely had in common. She never gave the time of day to learn about me; always forcing things on me.
Once I entered the highway, I blasted the cd I made of all the songs I considered "throwback jams". They weren't hip-hop throwback jams, but artists like Jesse McCartney, Vanessa Carlton and JoJo.
The drive from New York to Ottawa, Ontario in Canada was going to be one hell of a drive, but I was prepared. I guess the tight schedules and preparation were helpful because when I arrive at my new house, I know it'll be ready.
The moment I cross the border of Canada, I will no longer be Sarina Traviano, but Sarina Parez. With the major change in location and my new job as a literature teacher, I HAD to change my last name.
I just hope that this move is worth it and I'm not making any mistakes.
I made quite a few stops and even considered stopping for a nap, but that would delay my arrival and I had to get there before the movers left.
Hours went by and so far, I drank four red bulls, eaten at least six big granny smith apples and some raisin cinnamon bread. I was an hour away from my destination and couldn't wait to get there. My bum was killing me.
I looked down at my gas level and noticed it was almost on E. I groaned as I searched my GPS for the closest gas station that wouldn't deter me from my destination. It would be my third stop, and hopefully my last.
About ten minutes later, I pulled up to a Sphinx and filled my car up. I then went inside to buy some gum to keep my mouth occupied when I drove.
Before I got too close to my destination, I pulled over, wrote down the contacts in my phone, then took the sim card out and broke it. I tossed it to the ground and then continued my journey.
After another long and never ending drive, I arrived at my new house, nearly missing the turn because it was so dark out.
I pulled into my driveway, not paying attention to the scenery around me and nearly hit a deer. I slammed on the breaks as my heart accelerated. At least five or six more deer speed across my driveway and I was in awe and shock. At the rate they were going, it looked like they were running from something.
Once they passed, I slowly made my way down the rest of my driveway; it was almost a five-minute drive.
I guess I missed the movers. The porch light was on and I internally thanked the lord because I do not do well in the dark.
I slung my cherry blossom bag over my shoulder before getting out of my car. A light jog to the door and I was in my house with the door closed and locked behind me. Thank goodness Kate, the saleslady, mailed me a key.
I looked around my house, turning lights on as I went. Everything was way smaller, but only because I was used to mansions and what not. It would take quite some time adjusting.
The furniture was still wrapped in their packages and the dishes were still in boxes. I glanced in my new room, flicking on the light. Well, at least my bed is set up.
Making my way back to the kitchen, I opened cabinets and mentally decided what I wanted where I wanted them. The fridge was the two-door that I ordered and it was a black beauty.
The right door of the fridge had a sticky note on it that said: Open Me! I smiled and did as the note requested, and then smiled even bigger when I saw what was inside.
I picked up the box of chocolates and read the sticky note on top of it.
Congratulations on the new move! Enjoy your stay, and let me know if you have any problems!
-Kate-
I grabbed the bottle of red wine and closed the fridge. I kept a mental note that it needed to be plugged in.
I spent the next two to three hours mostly unpacking my room and the kitchen because food and sleep are a necessity. I started on the living room and just as I opened a box, my stomach growled. I went to the kitchen for food, but then realized that I have none. I huffed a huge sigh.
The bread was still in the car and it's dark out. Great, now I'll have to wait until tomorrow to get food. This is going to be a long move.