Warning: I poorly edited these next four chapters- i'll go over them soon but baby- bear with me until then.
IF I'm honest with myself, I'm almost ashamed to admit that I'm not as devastated about my family's sudden change in scenery as I should be. While helping my mother fill up the small loading van with less than half of the memoirs of the past 17 years of our lives, I couldn't help but secretly relish in the freedom that came with leaving my familiar world to explore unfamiliar territory. And while I left my thoughts of the situation be just thoughts, my little brother of just eight years old freely (and loudly) expressed the sentiments that I lacked for the both of us; his tears were seemingly endless as they fell past his cheeks onto the pavement of our former street. He cried out for the grandparents we'd see scarcely from this point on, for the primos y tíos y tias who helped raise us when our mom was too busy working to put food on our table, he cried for the expected absence of the friends that we practically called family.
Reasons such as this made me feel guilt for my eagerness to leave. There would be moments when he stopped crying, at least audibly, instead he'd settle for sucking in small wisps of air and dramatic exhalations. These moments were nothing but charging stops for him to recollect his energy and at the slightest mention of our relocation, he'd begin his barrage of tears and snot and self-induced coughs.
And still, as I patted his back and regurgitated to him the same promises our mom feed me, I couldn't help but notice how little his tears and his cries dissuaded me from, not only, assisting but full-on supporting my mom's abrupt decision to leave behind the life I had been so meticulous with maintaining.
"W-why isn't D-Danny co-coming with u-us?" He stuttered, forcing in a breath of air with each word.
Danny, or Daniel, is my twin brother who decided to move in with our dad in Florida. He dreaded the idea of moving to a place he wasn't familiar with, at least he had some friends in Florida for the summers we spent there. My mom wasn't at all pleased with his choice and even told him "no" at first, but eventually came to. I, on the other hand, refused to move with pa, no matter what is said kids always have a favorite parent: mine is ma. I'm all for this move, well I am now anyways.
Of course when I first heard the news I was annoyed, but that was it, minor sense annoyance over the fact that we had been told to put what best represented our lives into a couple of poorly labeled boxes and tie off any loose ends we have within a month's time before uprooting the family to some lackluster, old, unheard of town called Forks in Washington state.
The more i though about it, the more it made sense though; New York has become less and less like the place we used to call home with each passing year. The loving people have become paranoid and, in turn, spiteful toward each other. The streets we grew up on are now the streets I've learned to avoid; the men that used to watch over me are now the men I need to watch out for. The buildings that stretched endless up towards the sky have rotted and caved into themselves, they block the sun and their lights pollute the night sky making everything appear dull no matter the time of day. My mom used to say we are roses that grew past concrete, but even she's realized that the concrete wasn't a blockade that prevented us from growing; it was a shield that protected us from the dying. Apparently, the grass isn't always greener on the other side, sometimes there isn't any grass at all, just monsters lurking- waiting for a naive rose to pop its head from under ground.
Most importantly, the reason I truly believe my mom is pushing us to relocate to such a secluded location: is because our bisabuela has just passed away. She was the reason ma had stayed in NY for so long, it's not safe for an old sorceress who can no longer use her magic to be left unattended.
I chuckled at my own thoughts. A Sorceress. It's what ma told me i was on my thirteenth birthday, just four years ago. This world is full of creatures, fortunately we sorcerers are better at hiding then most, but even we prefer to stay in the dark, unknown to others. New York is big, it's loud, and it's full of magic. But, like i said, people are paranoid, old school sorcerer families want to remain on top, they were greedy and quick to snuff out anyone that had the potential to stop 'em. My mom decided that we can move to a place where we were the only sorcerers, go somewhere with a population of about 3000 people, and safely practice our magic that's been passed down through generation without be reprimanded for it. I think it helps her feel more connected to bisabuela when she uses it. Daniel was never really in touch with his magical side, he could use it as well as he next sorcerer, but he didn't want it to define his life, which is also why he went to live with our non-magical father. We tried to convince mis abuelos to come with us, but they refused. NY had become their home, they still had a lot of family to watch over them and they didn't want to let go of their territory without a fight; they were content where they were. So we went from a coven of 15 sorcerers, to a coven of three. I just hoped that this move would give me the freedom I anticipated.
The drive to Forks, Washington went surprisingly well. It took us about three days due to some necessary pit stops at hotels, a couple of wrong turns, and afternoon traffic, yet when we arrived into the town square it was barely 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We could see the livelihood of the town in prime time and, too my delight, it was just what I imagined. The outles in the square were limited, but it was spacious. Though there were a lot of people running around, it didn't hold a light to the chaotic energy of the streets of NY around this time. If I wanted to run straight down the sidewalk, I wouldn't have to worry about shoulder checking anyone.
It was such a small town that some people even realized they were unfamiliar with my mom's car and I could see them talking about us. My mom didn't seem to mind the attention as she drove uncharacteristically slow on what appeared to be damp asphalt. Her green eyes, that skipped me and went straight to my younger brother, appeared to reflect her thoughts as the shimmered enthusiastically with what little sun was provided. Even with what little activity was going on outside, the town appeared to be more lively than NY, welcoming even. In a couple of minutes we were out of the town's square and drove on a road completely bordered by trees. The van made a sudden jerk to the right and
I bounced in my seat as the van went slightly off road onto a dirt covered path through the thick first trees that border the town.
"Woah Ma, you forgot how to drive all of a sudden?"
Sometimes I say stupid shit like that because my brain isn't fast enough to think about the consequences of my actions until performed. In this case, my head was playfully, but purposefully shoved into the window beside me. The thud that sounded gave way to my mom's laughter as she told me to shut the fuck up. Those words exactly. And this is the women who raised me.
"Shut the fuck up, Ani"
"I'm just making sure, since we need to return the van to the company and all"
"Ay nena, cállate, until we get to the house keep your mouth shut"
Had it not been for the smile peeking out from the corners of her lips, I might have listened. But when has a teenager ever truly done what was asked of them without a final act of defiance.
"Aight, but when you lose the security deposit on this van, I don't wanna hear it"
"Anita!"
And that, is when I know to shut the fuck up. My mom's furrowed brows didn't last long, in fact they disappeared as soon as they came, because in that same moment my mom let out an out of character squeal. The sound seemed so foreign coming out of the New York bred, subway riding woman I called my mother, that I actually flinched hearing it. I barely registered the house that she speedily parked the van in front of, because I was too focused staring at my mom with wide eyes and a slacked jaw.
"Ma, on God, don't do that again. On God- damn"
My words ended abruptly as I took in the two story building structured before us. As a person who's only ever lived in an apartment building and never on the first floor, this moment solidified the belief that we truly weren't in New York anymore.
The trance I found myself in lasted for a second before my mom popped me in the mouth. The "pop" was enough to startle my sleeping brother in the back seat as he audibly woke up from his car nap.
"Aye, watch your mouth!"
"MA!"
I got a childishly playful giggle in return as she chided me offhandedly, telling me to get over it but don't forget it. I would've clowned her for the giggle, but my common sense pulled through and berated me for even thinking about it.
"I'm a grown woman"
"Where's my rent then, grown woman"
"Aya mami, estoy jugando, ya tú sabes"
The eye roll I got in return caused me to smile before I unbuckled myself and made way to the back of the van. The double doors opened with an unreasonable amount of effort and I eyed the the large boxes we packed. Ma thought it would be smart to pack in bulk instead of making a dozen trips back of forth. I pushed myself into the van and eyed one of the boxes that came up just below my waist. I'm not a short woman, arguably (between my doctor and I) I'm 5'7, so I'm honestly confused on how I'm expected to bring this box in on my own. The swear that passed my lips as I went into a squat transitioned to a shout when I noticed my mom staring at me with a disapproving expression on her face.
"Anita, qué tú haces?"
My brows furrowed as and my lower lip jutted out in response to my mom's question. Once again my mind was to slow to stop me from looking at the box for an exaggerated second before staring down at my squared stance before turning back to my mom as if that would answer her question. But when she crossed her arms and stuck out her hip with narrowed eyes, I couldn't help but mess with her.
"I'm getting ready to hug this box, what else would I do with it?"
All it took was my mom to flick out her pointer finger, never unfolding her arms, for me to be sent on my ass by an unforeseen force. The old, onyx ring with a ruby gem shinned ominously on her ring finger, warning me to shut the fuck up.
"What box, Anita?"
I could've growled with how annoyed I was, my right arm swinging out to point at the obvious brown bo- where the fuck'd the boxes go? In the space where the box had been now rested an unknown amount of dust particles swirling in the aftermath of recent teleportation.
"Why'd we pack in bulk if you were just gonna do that?!"
In the next second, my mom and I, who was still sat on the floor, were surrounded by four walls with two beautifully large arched windows and a fire place nestled in between as the room's focal point. The house must've been furnished before we got home, because my little brother seemed to have migrated from the car's back seat to a chestnut leather sofa, his small arm dangling from the edge of the couch and blanket draped over his small form.
"Help me unbox, I want to get it done by tonight so that we can relax tomorrow. You'll need your sleep-"
At the sudden reference to something I had completely forgotten about, I let out a well versed groan and allowed myself to dramatically fall backwards onto the wooden floors.
"Mami, please, why can't i take a week off before going back to school? We just moved today!"
"Anita, no! We already talked about this: the faster you integrate into the school the easier it will be to adapt to their curriculum"
"Ma, you saw the people in this town, I'm probably the only Hispanic kid in there" I flinched at the scathing glare my mom sent me.
"Anita! We are proud latinas, if you're the only Hispanic kid so what? The fuck are they gonna do about it? You wear your heritage proudly mija, somos boricuas! We don't hide, we are loud because we're meant to be seen!"
I nodded meekly at my mom's words, but her words instilled a sense of pride in me as well as indigence. She's right, not that I would tell her that, but she is. Who gives a fuck if I'm the only Hispanic? I have nothing to be ashamed of, I have nothing to hide. So, with just as much ferocity I repeated.
"Somos Boricuas!"
"Except your tia, she's Tiano-"
"Aye ma, you ruined the moment"
But she didn't, her smile was enough of a boost to get me off my feet and toward the boxes (not that id ever tell her that). I'm gonna need some good sleep if ima start my senior year on a Monday morning in a small town full of people I don't know, better get started on these boxes. It takes mad energy to be a loud ass Hispanic.
By the time we finished unpacking the boxes the sun had resigned and the moon clocked in. It truly was a beautiful sight, one that I hadn't been able to enjoy due to the light pollution New York suffered from. The moon was radiant as it hovered enchantingly in a blanket of darkness. The stars, fuck, the stars! Did they shine. They glimmered and glistened ethereally, appearing more like diamonds- flickering as diamonds sparkled. The sight was so new to me that I didn't even notice my body was craning further and further out my bedroom's two story window until violent rustling snatched my attention. My eyes instantly flickered to the trees that bordered the house, they swayed with the gentle breeze that had been constantly blowing since nightfall arrived. I was quick to chalk it up to a squirrel or bird- until striking specs of gold were set ablaze under the moon's pearlescent gleam. I shot off the window's sill and slammed my window shut. Without ever touching them my curtains swung closed and the lock clicked into place. My heart was drumming in my chest as i backed away from the window, I had no idea why i reacted so horribly, I'm not even sure of what I saw. However something was telling me not to go searching for answers and for once I listened. I settled for hoping into the shower and preparing for some beauty sleep, if a bitch wants to make a good impression tomorrow then she needs a full eight hours of sleep.
Hello! I just want to give a couple of heads ups before you continue with the story! I honestly should've done this from the jump, but here it goes!
-The story follows the movie (sort of) but I did add a character from the book just because i might want to do something with her, might not. She may not be important to my story at all.
- I am changing the timeline, and by that I mean it's not set in 2005 for me, because I don't want to do all the 2005 technology research and I might forget the time period and say things that don't add up. I'll say it's 2015, so that technology isn't too different from now.
-I make a lot of meme references that are out of time- I don't care, it's a fanfiction, pretend like it's relevant to that time period.
-Anita is my own character (you know this) and she's puerto rican- i really don't like subtitles in stories i personally feel like they pull me out of a story. I will always explain what was said in context. The story is mostly in her perspective, she speaks fluent spanish but you don't have to to follow along with the story, i purposely put very little spanish in here for this reason. (Also google)
-for anyone worried about Alice, I got my girl covered. I hate when a story makes her lonely or a total bitch, she's my favorite character and I got to do my girl justice.
-importantly, you don't have to read this if you don't want to. If you have constructive criticism DM me baby, i'm all ears. But it's on my profile- i'm petty people, don't.
-Most importantly, thank you for reading my story. I'll try to be consistent but i'm an adult (sort of) and I'm busy people. I do love to get feedback though and it encourages me to keep writing and updating you guys! There's not a set schedule cause if i try that, i wont bother following it.