Scotland.
The Northernmost country of the United Kingdom cloaked in mountain ranges and Western Highlands. Or, better known as my new home. You see, my father was offered a better-paying job from a man by the name of Lord McAshton. Of course, he accepted the job and that's why my younger brother, Tony and I were forced to move 5, 018 miles away from everything we'd ever known. Don't get me wrong, I was happy for my dad, elated even; I just wish we hadn't had to move from big, bustling California to small, yet beautiful Edinburgh, Scotland. A large change, I know, but I was willing to make adjustments if it made my family happy.
Our car smelled of McDonald's cheeseburgers and perfectly-cooked French fries, very different from the fresh, moist smell of the Scottish air that surrounded it as we drove down the road towards our new house, or manor as my mother referred to it as. Not that she was wrong, our new house was much larger than the one we'd lived in before but it just wasn't…home. The car came to a stop and my dad turned around to face us, beaming. He was excited and wouldn't stop talking about how Tony and I would love it here. Eventually, my mother had quieted him down.
"Isn't it wonderful, kids? Much bigger than the one if California, eh?" My father's voice brought me from my thoughts, causing a wince to escape my closed lips. Tony didn't answer; he didn't even look at our father. He must still be upset about leaving. I didn't say anything either, all I did was wrap my earbuds around my iphone and climb out of the car. Lord McAshton had apparently sent men ahead of our flight to unpack our things for us, so I didnt have anything to carry inside other than my leather school bag.
"Just let them be, Bob. They arent as anxious about Scotland as we are." My mother reassured, patting my father's shoulder as she almost always did now-a-days. He only nodded, watching as Tony and I ran inside the house, immediatly heading up to our bedrooms. They were diagonal from each other. Our parents thought it was a good idea because of Tony and my night terrors which never seemed to happen on the same night. If I had a night terror I would go to Tony's room and see if he was alright and if Tony had one, he'd come into my room and sleep in there with me. It had been that way ever since the terrors began, which seemed only months ago. For Tony, they started about a year ago, lucky him. I'd been having nightmares since I was his age, exactly five years ago. I was thirteen now so they began at the age of eight and ever night, when the moon was full they'd return. They were always the same and that confused me. Usually when you dreamt something more than once, it was more-than-likely going to happen but I doubt a vampire would ever ask for my help in finding a glowing red amulet. As my mother and father said, vampires do not exist and they never have.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and began unpacking my belongings, finishing sometime around midnight. I sighed, changing into my favorite pair of pajamas. The bottoms were long and patterned in a plaid black and white style and the top was a simple, black tank. Simple, I know, but I loved them. I climbed into bed not long after brushing my teeth, staring up at the dark ceiling. I wish I could believe you, mom and dad. I thought to myself, letting my eyelids fall and sleep consume me. I really do...
