The World As We Knew It (chapter one)

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CHAPTER 1

THE BEGINNING

MAIL BOXES AND TRASH CANS AND road signs blur pass me as I press on the gas. The car catches up to then exceeds the speed limit. A smile took over my face. It’s an evil, crazy, wild one. A happy one. A chilling, everything-is-amazing-so-stop-lying-to-my-face grin. I stomp on the gas pedal. I put all my weight on it as I watch the speedometer swing past 70, 75, and not until it hits 90 do I begin to slow. I only did so because I am almost to my street. Mulberry Lane, a cliché name for a cliché subdivision, all brick, boxy and expensive, the people tan and plain. But rich. Everyone in this subdivision is wealthy and have good jobs and cars and lives. Even me. I wouldn't say I'm spoiled, but I have a good life. I'm disciplined and still have to work for things I want. I have a curfew just like everyone else living on this dust-infested planet.

Tiny light fixtures line the driveway, which lead all the way to our four-car garage. I park my mom’s car stealthily in the empty space behind the 2021 BMW my dad loves. I made my way through the maze of cars and into the house, where I left the lights off, and silently tiptoe down the hallway, and into my bedroom. I flipped the light on. My eyes instantly strayed to my bed. My eyes widened and my breathing gets caught in my throat. Because there’s someone in my bed. A small head of black hair, of whom I never saw before this moment, lay asleep on my pillow. alarmed and more focused now, I quietly step out and close the door. I slow my breathing. I make my way through the house and only stop when I'm right in front of my parent’s door. Its shut. I knock, almost inaudibly, and open it. My parents, Remi and John Lascoh, lay asleep in their satin sheets, their maroon duvet draping lazily across them. I stand next to my mom and whisper at her: “mom mom mom” until she moves and mumbles something incoherent. Her eyes squint open at me, and when she registers my face, they pop open and she sucks in a gulp of air. “John.” She gasps. Something is wrong. Mom never uses dad’s name unless something is wrong. She’s staring at me like I'm a stranger, and not her sixteen-year-old daughter. “John.” She says louder. My eyes flick from her to dads moving form. he sits up groggily and glances over. he looks confused, then kind of mad, his tired eyes switching from me to my mother. “Who is that?” he asks, and I'm momentarily stunned. He must be really tired, my brain independently states. How else would he not recognize his own daughter, his only daughter and child, in his own house, in which she lives? I wait for mom to clarify this, but she doesn't. what she says next obliterates the world as I knew it: I don’t know. I have no idea who this woman is and what the hell she’s doing in my house at four in the morning, much less my bedroom. Who the fuck are you? she demands, looking outraged. I'm you daughter, I reply carefully. My mother hardly ever curses. She seriously doesn't know me. her own daughter. “Get out.” she bites out. “Get out and don’t come back. My daughter my ass.” I'm crying. I don’t know when that started, but when I try to persuade them, my parents, my words get garbled as if I'm talking underwater. They threaten to call the police. Get out, get out, get out. And I do.

I run through and out of the house, into the garage and the next thing I know, I'm speeding down the road in my mom’s corolla, tears continuously streaming down my face, almost out of this blasted subdivision with its tan, stupid people.

#chapterone #mystery #thebeginning #TheWorldAsWeKnewIt

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