Prologue

It was always the same way for me.

My parents would have a "creative motivation," or so they called it, and they would just decide to move somewhere. Right when we were all unpacked and I was finally adjusted to my new school, we'd have to repack up the whole house, and I'd have to leave again.

My parents are artists, you see, and painting landscapes is their thing. We'll move from Colorado to South Carolina to New Mexico all in one year. I mean, I used to think it was fun when I was a kid, exploring new places and stuff. I had my imaginary friends, my toys, and my parents to keep me company. As I got older, though, it got lonely, so I started to make friends, but it would never work out. We'd just move right away. So, I stopped trying. Now, I'm 13 years old and I haven't had a best friend since I was 9, let alone a boyfriend.

I guess some would say I'm a loner, others would call me a friendless loser, but the rest just call me Marabella. Yep, that's my name, don't wear it out. Anyway, it's much easier not making any friends. That way, when we move, I won't really be leaving anything or anyone behind. My parents are the same way, we have each other and that's all we need, I think. Goodbyes were never my favorite thing, so I think avoiding them altogether is a pretty good idea, don't you?

So that's my story. Now, we're packing our things again, leaving our sweet little (yes, I mean LITTLE) Chicago apartment, and moving somewhere northeast. I think they said Vermont, but it may have been Virginia, like I really care anyway. I've actually lived in 17 states, so they're all the same to me. I guess I'll be able to add another one to my list in a couple days, but it's not like anyone else will ever see or care about it anyway. Look at me, little miss sunshine, yippee.