STRANGERS
The airport was cold. The scent of coffee invaded my nostrils from the nearby coffee cart. I was tempted to go and get some but desided against it. I was told to stay by the terminal. Not to wonder. I'm 16, I can handle myself. I'm not a child.
"Kimmy!" I cringed at the name. I've always hated that name, ever since I was child. I turned and was engulfed into a bear hug. The flowery odar of heer purfume filled my nostrils. I don't like people hugging me. I struggled against with little to no luck of escaping. Acually I easily could have but I didn't want to hurt the person hugging me. They finally released me and I could get a good look at them. My aunt Helen. "I'm so glad to see you again." She smiled her annoyingly large smile.
"Yeah... great." I forced a smile. I've always hated Seaford.
"Let's go. It was a long flight and I bet you need sleep." I nodded. I had the most fucked up flight. I started in Tennesse then to New York, acraoss the country to L.A., then to Chicago, then to San Fransisco and finally to Seaford. Whoever booked that flight needs to have a mental test. I had to wake up at 1 a.m. just to arrive her at one in the afternoon. I haven't been to sleep since. Either way I followed her to her car and she started to drive.
I should probably tell you who I am and what's happening. My name is Kim Crawford. Not Kimmy, not Kimberley, just Kim. I used to live in Tennesse but I got shipped out here for some... family issues that I don't really want to get into. But I have to stay with my aunt Helen in Seaford, The only problem is that I hate her house. And no offence to her but I kinda hate her, too. Her houe is really small, always smells like feet and onions, and her dog hates me. Last time I was here Bruno, her dog, chased me for 9 miles, mostly up hill, until I finally managed to lose him at the beach after having to dive, fully clothed, into the water. I don't even wanna go into why I don't like aunt Helen.
I couldn't put my finger on it but something about where we are doesn't feel right. Wait, this isn't the way to her house.
"Aunt Helen?" I asked.
"Yeah?"
"Where are we going?" I may not have been here for a while but I know this isn't the way to her house. She lived in the, as some people might say, the "poorer" part of town. We were heading into the richer part of town.
"There's been a slight change in you living arrangements." She said it as though she was talking to a kid. I'm young not stupid. Spit it out already.
"How slight?" My voice came out harsher then I inteaded it to. Her annoying smile trembled. She was nervous.
"Well my house kinda got... flooded."
"So am I staying in a motel or something?" Her smile faded. What's going on?
"Not exactly. You'll be staying at me freinds house with her son." Son? Son. He better be 12 or 20 because anything inbetween would be really bad.
"Son?" I could tell she wasn't happy about it. Neither was I.
"Yeah." Her hands clenched aroung the steering wheel. "He's about your age. Maybe a little older." I shrugged. As long as I'm not living in a alley with rats I'm fine.
"Whatever."
This friend of hers must be loaded. We're in the richest part of town. All the houses were beautiful and well cared for. We pulled on front of one of the biggest houses. It was amazing. Beautiful acually. An amazing blue, aqua I think. A light grey door and window frames. In a weird way it kinda reminded me of a dolphin.
"I don't want to stay with strangers." I stated as we made our way to the front door. If felt like miles when in reality it was only about 50 feet from the sidewalk.
"They're not strangers to me. Please give them a chance." She may have been smiling but I could see she want it. She didn't mind that I was staying with stranger, she just didn't like that I was staying with a boy my age.
"How long?"
"It could be weeks, could be months." I rolled my eyes. It could be months. I could be stuck here for months. She knews how I am around people. I don't like getting close to people. Being here means I might have to get close to them. But everyone I get close to, something happens to them. I'm starting to think I'm cursed. By now we made it to the front door and aunt Helen knocked.
"I would rather be at a motel." I mumbled to myself. Though I knew she heard me and frackly, I didn't care, She's leaving me with strangers. STRANGERS! I mean, who does that. The son could be a pervert or a rapist. I might not even see her for months or even a year, not that I'm complaining. This is way better then staying at her house so who's to complain.