Saturday 4th January 2014

The chamomile tea wasn't helping her relax one bit. In all honesty, Bonnibel was terrified; so terrified that she had sat in the same position for around a half hour, and all of the warmth from the red cup in her hands had slowly faded until her drink was a dissatisfying lukewarm. She wasn't listening to her parents' remarks over how easily she'd settle into her new school – she was too focused on worrying about the other kids.

For most of her life, she'd been ignored by other people her age; Bonnie had never fit in, and she knew it wouldn't be any different here. Her parents just didn't understand that - all they were doing was giving her false hope.

She leant back on the uncomfortable wicker chair she was perched on in her father's new office of their new house, her blue eyes darting around the room. It was as boring as any usual office, somehow much more boring than the one back in New York – it was just a simple desk and chair, with her father's computer in the middle. She missed the many bookcases hung up on the walls and the calm blue shade of the wallpaper; his old office was much better than the drab room she was in now. Of course, he would decorate, but it wouldn't be the same.

It would never be home.

"Bonnibel, are you even listening to us?" Her mother asked, an impatient glare directed her daughter's way.

Bonnibel's gaze shot towards her mother whom she much resembled – minus the pink shade that Bonnibel had dyed her hair. "Of course."

"What did I just say?" Her mother challenged, raising a competitive eyebrow and sending Bonnibel a smirk.

Bonnibel exhaled. "Fine, I wasn't listening. I just want to be by myself for a little while."

Her father spoke up, and he was much more calming than her mother; he'd always had that effect. Bonnie's Mom had always been slightly high strung, although at times she was incredibly understanding - she just didn't get that her daughter didn't fit in. Bonnie was like a jigsaw piece in the wrong box. "We know that you didn't particularly want to move here, but I can promise you that you'll be okay at the new school. I know that your biggest worry is making new friends, and I can assure you that everyone will be all over you the second you walk into that school."

Bonnibel scoffed, but she saw the genuine smile on her father's face and managed to force one back. "I'll try to make friends." Lie.

"Thank you." Her father smiled. "You can go to your room if you'd like. You have a big day tomorrow."

She nodded. "Yeah…I'm going to go to bed early. Don't wake me up for dinner. I need to sleep off my nerves."

Her parents dismissed her, and she walked through the dark, unfamiliar house they now resided in and into what was now her bedroom. She sighed, flopping down on her warm, familiar bed – the only thing in these new surroundings that could actually give her a sense of home. The rest of her room was dull. The walls were painted a soulless grey, and she hadn't gotten around to sticking up her old posters yet; her favourite one was of the periodic table. Her desk that was worn from years of use was shoved into a corner and was disorganised; anything that could be thrown out of her suitcase was temporarily residing on there - her pet rat, Science, wasn't too pleased with all of the junk surrounding his cage. The room itself was messy; there were cardboard boxes lying on the white carpet, with clothes strewn around. Moving could never be organised, Bonnibel decided.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back home in New York – she knew where everything was there. She could almost smell the hot-dog stands and hear the cabs zooming past her. She missed her sense of direction - everything here seemed upside down.

She was cut off from her daydream by her mother bursting into her room with yet another box. How many of these things were there? "Put this away somewhere."

Bonnibel sighed, staring up at the white ceiling, ignoring her mother's comment. "I'm really scared, Mom."

"I know, but you'll be fine. Just wait a week – then you'll be laughing and wondering what you were scared of!" Her mother assured, kissing her on the forehead.

Bonnibel watched as her mother fumbled about with the latest addition to the pile of moving boxes in Bonnibel's room. She was momentarily amused by her mom nearly tripping over a stray wire from her TV which hadn't been set up yet, but feelings of melancholy consumed her once again. "You know I've never had any friends, right?"

Her mom leant down and placed the box labelled 'Bonnibel's clothes' by her desk, huffing as she stood up. "That's because you never tried to make any, Bonnibel. Every time we'd ask, you'd talk about how much you needed to study. Don't get me wrong – we love how good your grades are – but it would be nice to see you having fun."

"I have fun when I study, Mom." Bonnibel reasoned. "And I do have one friend."

"Your pet rat doesn't count." Her mother motioned to the cage on the left hand side of Bonnibel's desk, where her rat, Science, was currently trying to ignore the clutter surrounding him and take a nap.

Bonnibel sighed. "I told you I'd try here. If I'm unsuccessful then I'll throw myself into my schoolwork. It really doesn't bother me too much if I don't make friends. I just don't want to get bullied or anything."

"You won't be." Her mother assured, sitting down on Bonnibel's pink bedspread. "The kids should be nice."

Bonnibel let out a harsh laugh. "When are teenagers ever nice, Mom?"

Her mother chuckled a little, and Bonnibel finally looked to her to see her Mom smiling back at her with warm blue eyes much like her own. "You've got a point, there."

"Exactly." Bonnibel bobbed her head, a smile of her own creeping onto her face.

Her Mom touched a gentle hand to her shoulder. "I can promise you that you'll be fine. You always have been right?"

Bonnibel nodded. "Yeah."

Her mother stood up and stretched, before turning back to Bonnibel with a stern look. "Unpack these boxes. You don't want to be doing it all tomorrow, do you?"

Bonnibel laughed and moved a strand of her pink hair from her face. "Okay, Mom. Goodnight."

"Night." Her mother called as she bustled out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Bonnibel alone with her thoughts.

Bonnibel almost immediately flopped back on her bed with a loud sigh, eyeing the growing pile of boxes and groaning. She just couldn't be bothered to unpack; it's not like she even wanted to move in the first place. Bonnibel didn't know how she was going to adjust from the change of setting. She'd lived in the hectic city of New York for her entire life; now she was in the much smaller town of Glassrock, Minnesota - which she hadn't even known had existed just few months prior. Her Mom had been offered a job transfer, and her parents had decided it would be a good idea to get away from all of the stress of living in a big city. She didn't exactly like their idea to move, but it's not like she had a choice in the matter. She hadn't even left anyone or anything behind in New York.

You know, aside from her home and every sense of familiarity she had.

Sunday 5th January 2014

Bonnibel had always hated waking up. She hated how disoriented she felt and how her eyesight was blurry and how her senses seemed jumbled. It made her feel vulnerable, and that was one thing she didn't like. Vulnerability was weakness.

Bonnibel especially hated waking up knowing that she had a lot of unpacking to do.

She groaned and shuffled about in her bed until her fingers touched her cold phone that had been left to charge overnight. Her fingers wrapped around it and she unlocked it, her eyes squinted from the bright light of her screen. 9:36AM. No notifications.

She didn't know what she was expecting.

She locked her phone and sat up, her pink hair a tangled mess. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, sticking one leg over the edge of her bed, proceeding to quickly hide it back under the duvet. Her new bedroom was freezing. She wrapped her duvet around her body and swung her bare legs over the edge of her bed, standing up. She walked across her room – still wrapped up in her pink blanket – and fished through the many cardboard boxes until she found her favourite purple sweater. She tugged it on, and continued searching though the boxes until she found a pair of grey sweatpants. She pulled them on, thankful that they were both warm and comfy. She threw her duvet back onto her bed, not bothering to make it as she usually would, and emptied the three boxes of clothes she found. She walked over to her wardrobe which had been pushed against a wall adjacent to the window, opening the doors. She frowned; there were no hangers for her clothes. "Mom!"

Her mother appeared within minutes, opening her bedroom door a crack and peeking her head around the corner. "Yes?"

"I don't have any hangers for my clothes."

"There's a box of them downstairs." Her mother told her, nodding her head towards the landing outside Bonnibel's room.

Bonnibel sighed and followed her mother through her bedroom door and down the creaky stairs to the living room, which was in the same state as Bonnibel's room, multiplied by about 1000. There were boxes everywhere. Somebody had cleared a pathway so they could navigate through the living room, albeit not a very good one, as Bonnibel nearly tripped over one or two stray boxes a few times.

Her Mom thrust a box into her hands. "There. That should be enough."

Bonnibel nodded and stumbled out of the room, desperately trying not to fall over a box she couldn't see due to her vision being cut off by the box in her arms. She somehow managed to escape from the cluttered living room unscathed and slowly made her way up the stairs, dumping the box at the top of them. She pushed the box against the back wall of the landing and grabbed a handful of hangers, entering her room.

The trivial yet tiring task of hanging up all of her clothes took quicker than expected, and Bonnibel was soon unpacking random things she couldn't even remember owning and shoving them into the closest drawer until her room was filled with empty boxes. She checked the time on her phone. 13:17PM. She was pleased with how quickly she'd managed to unpack everything.

She wasn't pleased with how she had nothing else to do for the day. She didn't enjoy being unproductive and lazy; she always ended up wrapped up in her own thoughts and anxieties - namely about school the next day - which ended up overpowering her and then she'd be upset and in a bad mood until she went to bed that night. Bonnibel considered conducting a science experiment, until she realised that she'd packed all of her science stuff away and she really could not be bothered in getting everything out. Her TV had not been hooked up yet, same with the internet connection.

She dug around in the backpack she'd taken with her in the car on the drive here, pulling out her book; Jurassic Park. She'd seen the film when she was just eight years old, and she'd only just gotten her hands on the book. The science behind it fascinated her. When she was younger, she marvelled in the thought of dinosaurs being brought back to life by science. Of course, she'd realised it would be impossible pretty quickly, but the concept of the book still captivated her.

Reading her book managed to pass some time, and she had finished it by 6:30PM when her mother called her down for dinner. The book was much more detailed than the film – especially in the science aspect – so she concluded that she preferred the book.

Dinner with her parents was as it always was back in New York – dull. They chatted with her about recent events, how she was coping with the moving, if she was excited for school the next day. Honestly, it was tiring. Bonnibel didn't want to talk about school. She knew that she wouldn't fit in with the other students. She never has.

After dinner, she decided to take a shower and go to bed early to be well rested for the next day. She got into bed at 8PM.