My dad was driving me home.

Just a month ago my grandparents died in a car accident and since they were the one's raising me I was left alsmost by myself. My dad did not like it, so I had to move to Mystic Falls- a small town I've never heard of before. Frankly, I didn't mind. New York was way too big for a 18 year-old girl like me and living in that huge house was nothing I was looking forward to. Not without my family.

I never got to meet my mother. She left one day and never came back. At that time my parents were already seperated. I must have been about two years old, I don't remember her. My dad was more focused on his career, all he wanted was to become a lawyer and my grandparents took it upon themselves to bring me up. They provided me great life... until the crash on the highway. Several people died. Grandma und grandpa were among them.

My dad came right away, comforting me, whiping away every single tear that was crawling down my cheek. Two days later he was done with all the paperwork, he checked me out of my private school on Upper Eastside and for the next few days we were packing my stuff for my move.

It was weird to admit, but during that time we became quiet close, we had a normal father- and- daughter relationship, as if nothing ever happend.

"Are we there yet ", I whined. My whole body was screaming for one thing: sleep. I spent the last hours packing my last stuff, things that meant so much to me. Like my grandma's cat figures made of glass. She always put them in the sunlight, I never knew why but it made me smile thinking about it. And then I remembered her smile, what a gracious and elegant lady she was and so beautiful. She even made some men turn their heads. Whenever we were outside she would put on a glorious hat and walk around like there was no tomorrow. And my grandpa... he was a lover of art. The whole house was more like a gallery for the artwork. I couldn't take them with me, so I took pictures of them and printed them out.

"Soon", my dad responded. "Very soon."

"You said that half an hour ago."

"Yeah, but this time it's true", and right this moment he turned left and parked in front of the house. It looked quiet simple, white front, a brown rooftop and a green front garden but no fence. Guess they weren't needed here.

I exited the car, followed my father into my new home and upstairs to my room. It was big and all of my furniture was already inside. Lucky me, I couldn't handle working anymore.

"Here", he handed me my luggage. "I'll cook something for us. What would you like to have?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

He laughed. "Alright, alright. Lasagna it is", he said and off he was.

Rudy was the best cook I met, well after my grandpa of course. He made every meal I was asking for and his lasagna was over the top. I even suggested that he'd better become a chef once he was done with law.

45 minutes later we were sitting in the dining room, eating and chatting but I couldn't stop thinking about the next day.

Will I ever be happy?