Moving In

That's where I was wrong. I should have told her I didn't like him from the day I met him, but no. I had to be miserable to make sure she was okay. I shifted my position on the roof so I was hugging one of my knees and I rested my head on it. I sighed and remembered when mum and I first moved into his house.

June of 1898

The house looked nice, I'll give him that. Flowers accompanied the shuttered on the white house like a cherry on a sundae. It looked too perfect. Actually, Peter was too perfect, so I guess they compliment each other nicely. There wasn't any grass or even a lawn but the house looked okay with out it.

I held on to my books and notebooks like it was the last time I'd ever see them. I held my bag on my right shoulder and carried my stuffed bat in my left hand. Mom hated my bat, who I named Charles, but my father got him for me so I would never let her throw him out, even if he was raggedy and dirty.

I walked into the house. It was also nice, not great like our old house, but nice. Natural tones decorated the interior and a grand staircase that led somewhere to hopefully my room.

"Marie, honey, your room's upstairs. Take a left, first door on your right." My mother told me. I nodded and led myself up to my new room.

It was a smaller room. I liked it though. The walls where tan with a cream bed spread and a white dresser, complete with a mirror. I noticed a window and looked out of it. I had a great view of Manhattan and the Brooklyn bridge.

Brooklyn was always a place where I wanted to go. Just the rumors of it being 'tough' made me even more eager to see it. I wanted to meet this Spot Conlon kid too. He was maybe a year or two old then myself and if the rumors were true, I'd be intimidated by him. I doubt it though, I wasn't very nervous around many people anymore. Not since…well…my father's death.

"Enjoying the view?" I heard from behind me. I turned to see Peter giving me that eerie grin again.

"I guess," I answered. He nodded and then began to approach me as I turned my back to him, hoping he'd leave me alone.

"Why don't you like me, Marie?" he boldly asked, right behind me. He was close, almost touching my back.

"You're not my father," I said simply. He didn't seem to get my hints and continued to make this awkward.

"Ah, well, I can't replace your father, but maybe I could be something else to you?"

"Like what?"

"Just think about it, okay?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion before I turned to him. Before completing the turn, I was pushed against the wall with Peter's body crushed against me. I quickly turned my head before I was paralyzed as I felt this breathe on my right ear. "Okay?"

"Yeah…yeah, whatever," I whispered. I saw him glance at me out of the corner of my eye and I also noted the slight smirk on his lips.

"Good," he stated before turning and leaving my room like nothing happened. I let out a shaky breath. Nothing good could come from that. Nothing…