Hey Guys,
This is my first ever fan fiction so it probably won't be amazing but you can comment any suggestions you want to make and they're appreciated. I'll try to update every second day.
I awoke just as the sunlight spilled through the crack in my curtains. It was the last day of summer and I already missed it. I missed the countless hours spent painting and doing the things I loved. I hated the fact that that was all going to come to an end soon, and I wasn't ready. Especially not after what happened. I didn't tell anybody simply because I didn't want their pity.
I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and made my way to the kitchen. There was a large countertop in the middle of the modern kitchen. This room was just like the rest of my house, huge. My neighbourhood, Arkadia was the best in the city. All of the houses belonged to the richest of the rich, and I was no exception. My house was amazing, and that was the reason none of my friends had seen it. They'd think of me differently.
A loud bang stopped me in my tracks. It sounded like a car door closing. The only person it could be was my mom and she was at work, as always. No cars ever drove down to my house because it was the second to last on a dead end road and the house next to mine was abandoned before I was even born. The only glimpse of the house I got was through my bedroom window which just so happened to directly face the window of the room across the way, and by the looks of that room no one would want to live in it. Ivy had grown through the wall into the room and it was covered in mould. My mom had been petitioning for it to be knocked down or at least renovated for years but nothing had ever been done.
I pulled back the curtains and my suspicions were confirmed. There was a large moving truck parked outside my house and workers were unloading boxes into the house next door. There was no sign of the people moving in, but I knew they'd be there soon because there were boxes filled with kids toys and school was starting tomorrow.
My mom wasn't going to be happy, she loved privacy ever since the incident and having kids next door didn't really suit her agenda of never letting anyone find out our secrets. I never agreed with how she dealt with what happened but I didn't want to cause fights. I had lost enough and didn't want to include my mother in that list. She was stressed enough without me trying to tell her how to live her life. So I let her do whatever she wanted to distract herself and never said a word. I agreed when she suggested we move to the other side of the country when I was just twelve and I let her paint and repaint the walls almost every month. Whatever she needed I fulfilled and to a certain extent it helped but she will never fully heal. What we don't need right now, is questions asked.