"Ziva hurry up!" I let my eyes wander around the room that had been my home since I was born for the last time. I was going to miss this place, the cracks in the ceiling that formed the shape of an ostrich, the blob of nail varnish on the wall from were Ari had thrown my bottle of deep red at the wall in a fit of rage. You could see the blu-tak marks from where all my posters had been.
"Ziva!"
"Coming Father!" I shouted back, walking out of my room and closing the door for the last time.
It was the end of an era.
Father dragged Ari and I round to our neighbours, we only had the one, since we were at the end of the road. Before we even got half way down the drive we could hear music blaring from the kitchen. My father frowned and Ari looked distrustful. However, from the music playing it appeared that there was someone there of my age, so I was quite looking forward to this now.
My Father knocked and we heard a voice from inside shout
"Timmy! Door!" I was surprised whoever it was had heard the knock over the music. The door opened to reveal a boy, probably about fourteen, in a baggy t-shirt and denim jeans. He looked momentarily confused before seemingly deciding something.
"You guys are the new neighbours right?" He asked. My father nodded.
"My name is Eli David, this is my son Ari and my daughter Ziva." I nodded when Father said my name, but my attention had been drawn to the kitchen. There was a girl dancing while she was washing dishes. The music seemed to flow through her as she moved. She wasn't particularly graceful, but she seemed to move with a flow and a rhythm that no-one else could have possessed.
"I'm Timmy McGee Scuito. That's my sister, Abby and my mum is in the living room, but she's deaf, which is why she hasn't come out to see you yet." Timmy explained.
"Would you like to come and meet my mum?" He asked. My father nodded and he and Ari began to follow Timmy. I took this as a chance to duck out and get into the kitchen as I watched Abby dance. She was singing along too, though I couldn't hear it when we were out in the hall.
"Don't you wish you could hold
The Angel in the centrefold
That fantasy you couldn't control
Who walked away from you."
It was then I spotted her arms. One was covered in bandages and the other had fresh cuts and scars littering her pale flesh, standing out by the raising of the skin and the red marks around the fresher wounds.
I took a step and Abby froze before spinning around, her eyes landing on me. Her eye's widened then settled into slits, her mouth a thin line of red lipstick, creating the impression of a gash across her face.
"Who are you?" I opened my mouth, ready to start a response but she cut me off.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in here? Who are you? GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!" Abby screamed that last part and I backed out through the kitchen door and into the hallway, were I bumped into my brother and Father getting ready to leave. I thanked god as we left the house.
I had been wrong about perhaps being friends with the person next door. As much as I wanted to be friends with her, she didn't seem to want anything to do with me.
SBHNH: I don't own the song Centerfold by P!nk, just to let you know.
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