AN: I changed the rating to T to get more readers (hopefully). I have to say, it's a strong T though. It may change to M eventually. Please put this story on your alerts or favorites, especially if the original was on there! I'd like to see more reviews!

o1. Seventeen Years Later

I had never truly realized how much life could suck. I mean, why in the world did I of all people deserve this shitty life? And trust me…it hadn't been peachy. Granted, I had great friends that I would do anything for, and I even ended the second semester of my junior year of high school with A's in every one of my classes. My seventeenth birthday was just around the corner, too.

So what were the negative aspects of my life, you ask?

Well…

I grew up with no mother figure, I had no boyfriend of which to speak, my dad had gotten remarried last Christmas, I gained a nasty, backstabbing slut of a step-sister as a result of that marriage, and I was in the process of moving away from my loveable Pennsylvanian hometown to some stupid, upscale Chicago suburb.

Now I know you feel my pain.

Therefore, to temporarily keep my head from thinking about the rather horrible situation at hand (horrible to me, at least), I decided I would spend the rest of that gorgeous late Saturday morning with my two best friends that I would be leaving behind in just less than a day. Sure, I could have been assisting my dad and older brother, Cody, with moving all of our things that hadn't been sent away to Chicago in a moving truck into my dad's SUV and Cody's beat-up old Mustang, but where was the fun in that? It would only remind me of what was about to come: a life full of being amongst disgustingly rich people, living in a massive three-story house, and having to share my dad with other people besides Cody. I was used to weekly family trips to the local ice cream parlor, staying in with my friends on Friday nights and watching a marathon of scary movies, and living in a quaint, two story house…

Whatever. It's not like I had a say in the matter anyway.

Let's just say that I was relishing the time I had left with my friends at that particular moment. They were doing an excellent job at distracting me from thinking about, well, anything really.

I mean, Molly Johnson and Faye Brooks proved to be a hilarious combination. That was simply because Molly was a quirky, five-foot-four girl with dark brown hair and eyes to match. She wasn't necessarily the smartest person I knew since she was in all the regular classes at school and maintained a solid C average. She was also probably one of the most boy-crazy girls I had ever met in my life.

Faye, on the other hand, was the complete and total opposite of Molly. She was a more serious, five-foot-nine girl with long and curly golden blonde hair and forest green eyes. She was the smartest girl of the three of us and took nothing but honors and AP classes, topping off the whole "smart" look with her stylish designer glasses that she always had perched on the top of her slender nose. It was like her signature thing. And, unlike Molly, she didn't seem to see all the possible joys in having a boyfriend to call her own, which had naturally made Molly adamant at finding Faye the perfect guy to dissolve the stubbornness she held for our male counterparts. Unfortunately, Molly said that there was really no guy that would be able to handle Faye as of yet, but she was still determined to find our best friend that special someone.

And me?

Well, I was somewhere in the middle of my two crazy friends: a five-foot-seven girl with a long mane of jet black hair and bright green eyes. I was smart for the most part, and I had even had my fair share of boyfriends, but none that I felt were keepers.

"…You are so like that, Faye, Don't even try to deny it. I swear to God…Okay, you know what? We really need to get you laid as soon as possible. Seriously."

"Don't even think about going there, Molly. 'Getting laid', as you so eloquently phrase it, will not solve any of the issues I have with being a 'cold-hearted bitch', which I'm sure you refer to me as oh-so-kindly. I mean, there are many risks with such a measure taken before marriage, like sexually transmitted diseases, unwanted pregnancies, emotional trauma—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I did not ask for a stupid lecture, Faye. Now listen, this is Lily's final day here with us so we need to try and be nice to each other for once and act somewhat normal—"

"What are you talking about? This is normal for us!"

See what I mean? They just love each other so much.

"Oh, my God, guys! Will you two shut up? You better stop before you start trying to kill each other. I'd really like it a lot if there wasn't any bloodshed on my last day here. Please?" I said, attempting to calm them down some.

"Sorry, Lily. Who knows what's going to happen once you're gone," Molly noted.

I just smiled and shook my head in response.

The three of us decided to have lunch at a local burger joint not a mile from my house. I was able to calm Molly and Faye down enough to have a civil, ordinary conversation with both of them. Somehow, we had got to talking about the time Faye bitched out this guy named Alex Sullivan, some overly perverted and cocky soon-to-be college freshman that had tried to ask her out at one point. It had thrown him for a loop since no one ever turned down Alex, and it even through Faye for a loop since not many guys had the balls to try and ask her out on a date.

As Molly actually complimented Faye on her methods for deflating Alex's over-sized ego, we passed by a massive Victorian-era mansion on the way back that had been in our neighborhood since, well, forever. It was the only historical building that hadn't been torn down years before, when the state government went on this rampage of destroying all sorts of dilapidated houses from a long time ago. They were trying to make room for more modern things, like fast food places and strip malls.

As far as I knew, no one actually lived in the mansion. I always thought it was just there for show, but according to a few recent news articles, the government was actually thinking of tearing it down like the rest of them. Apparently, some horrible crime had occurred there in the 1920's. I wasn't entirely sure of the whole story, but it had been pretty gruesome. The cops had found the bodies of the former owners of the house there, but with no trace of a murder weapon or possible suspects. I didn't understand why they didn't destroy it along with all those other houses with what had happened there and all. It didn't make any sense.

Since then, the place has been a well-known spot for stupid teens to go and freak each other out. Though it was abandoned, it was said to be haunted by the ghosts of its former owners. I didn't believe any of that; I wasn't one to believe in the supernatural.

I stared up at the highest window of the mansion. There was a weird, entranced feeling you got when you looked at it, like the house itself was actually daring you to go inside. It was extremely creepy. I mean, I had never been inside of it, but there were people that had been known to see stuff there that had scared the hell out of them according to the stories.

Suddenly, as I was staring at it, I saw something that made my blood run cold. It was a very angry-looking face glaring at me from the window. It looked rather ghostly, but I didn't want to believe it was a ghost. What ghost would show itself in the daytime? I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again, looking back up at the window. The face had vanished.

I shivered—even though it was a gorgeous, but really warm 80-something-degrees outside—and looked straight ahead.

"Lily? Lily? Hello?" I was startled from my thoughts on what I had just seen by Molly's annoyed-sounding voice.

"Huh?"

"What was that about? You didn't answer me for, like, a whole minute there."

"Oh, sorry. I guess I was just thinking. I'm so upset to leave this place."

"I know what you mean. It'll be okay though, Lily. We'll still talk, of course, and Faye and I will tell you all the stupid ass things that happen with people from school, namely Sullivan. Don't worry, babe," Molly assured me with a grin.

I offered her the best smile I could muster up. Sure, I didn't want to leave because this was my true home, but that face in the window of a house that was not too far away from mine made me kind of glad I wasn't sleeping there anymore.

My dad first met Simone Adams when he, Cody, and I went on vacation to Florida last summer, a tradition we kept up even after my mom had died, according to my dad. Simone had been staying in the same hotel as us and was apparently there on a business trip. At that time, Brooke, my newly-appointed bitch of a step-sister, hadn't been with her. My dad had "accidentally" bumped into her while he snuck down to the hotel bar one night when he thought Cody and I were out cold.

Throughout the duration of our stay, my dad and Simone went on a few dates to local restaurants and the beach when Simone wasn't doing work stuff and when my dad, Cody, and I were doing stuff designed for just the three of us. On a couple of occasions, my brother and I were even invited to attend dinner as well so that we could meet the latest and greatest thing in our dad's life. Though it was difficult to get used to at first, Simone seemed like a really great and nice person, and she really seemed to make my dad a happy man. He deserved happiness after having lost the woman he had once told me was the only true love he'd ever have in his lifetime—his soul mate, his best friend, and most importantly, my mother.

The only downfall with Simone, at least to Cody and I, was how she acted around her daughter. It was obvious that Simone treated her daughter like a spoiled rotten princess. Brooke pretty much got anything and everything she wanted, and it was rather sickening to see the little slut beg for those one-hundred-dollar heels only to have Simone say yes right away.

And you may think it harsh of me to call my new step-sister a slut, but if you ever met her, you'd agree too, I'm sure. At the wedding, she brought her latest and greatest boy toy, Kevin or Evan or something like that—I forget—and the two of them were getting down and dirty on the dance floor, hanging all over each other and making out. That hadn't cared in the least if anyone was watching them. Ugh. I swear I had been about ready to go hose them down with water just so they'd quit it, but I honestly didn't think that would have stopped them.

So you see why I was pretty reluctant to move to Simone and Brooke's home…

I walked Faye and Molly back to their respective houses, being sure to give both of them the biggest hugs I could. I probably wouldn't see them for a really long time. I began walking toward my house after that. Unfortunately, this meant taking the route where I would pass by the creepy mansion. I was oddly alert as I passed by it, trying to avoid looking anywhere remotely in the direction of the house at all costs. If something was going to try and scare me again like before, I no longer had Faye or Molly by my side to snap me back to reality—or save me, for that matter.

Then, I had a spur-of-the-moment thought to go and visit my mom's grave before I left Pennsylvania.

I crossed the street to go into the cemetery that was kiddy-corner from the mansion. I had been to my mom's grave so many times before. For me, it was a place of solitude where I could go and clear my head of all my thoughts. I mean, even though I never actually got to know my mom—since I was almost seven months old when she died—I liked finding solace in the possibility of her listening to me talking to her. I could only hope, however.

It took me no more than a minute to find her gravesite. I sat down next to the headstone and rested my elbow on one of my propped-up knees, laying my head on my hand as I stared at the engraved words:

Elizabeth Renée Miller
Born March 7, 1970
Died January 13, 1996
Loving Mother, Daughter, and Wife

According to my dad—and I know he might have been biased—she was an extremely beautiful woman. I believed it though. He would always say that I reminded him of her, that I was the spitting image of her at times. Even though he was trying to be happy when he told me about it, I knew it hurt him so much to talk about her. It broke my heart to watch one of the strongest men I knew cry like that.

"Hey, Mom. It's me, Lily," I began in a hushed tone, gazing upward at the sky. There were a sparse number of people scattered about the entirety of the cemetery at the time, so I didn't want to look like I was going crazy talking to myself if they happened to come my way. "I don't know what to expect from this whole moving thing, or the fact that Dad's remarried. I mean, I'm scared and mad and sad all at the same time. I don't want to leave my home, my friends, my school...you. Anyway, I guess I just came here to say goodbye…so, goodbye, Mom."

Then, I did something that I always did each and every time I visited my mom's grave. I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched them to the cool grey marble of her headstone. I stood up and blew another kiss back toward the slab of stone sitting on that small patch of green earth.

"I love you," I whispered.

I turned to walk off, unfortunately having to head toward the sidewalk right outside the cemetery that was across the street from the creepy mansion. Suddenly, I heard a twig snap from somewhere behind me. If it had been me, I definitely would have felt my Converse-clad foot step on it. And it couldn't have been any of the other people who were visiting their deceased loved ones too; I would have probably seen them walking in such close proximity to me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced behind me quickly, most likely looking like some sort of crazy person to passersby. When I didn't see anyone anywhere even close to me, I turned back and stood there for a moment, chancing a daring look up at the mansion's window where I had seen the face earlier. I was certainly quite afraid.

Feeling as though my senses were on high alert, I walked pretty briskly past the cemetery gates and down the sidewalk. As I made my way all the way back home, I was sure not to look back at that dreaded house.