Ember's POV:
I glide my hand over the lock and open the door as relief washes over me. Kicking it shut, I embrace the refuge these walls extend to me. Home. I love the sound of that word as it falls from my lips. I breathe deeply allowing the palpable stress that has shadowed every moment of this extra-long day to roll off my shoulders in waves. I thought this day would never end. Arching over fists tucked into the small of my back, I smile in relief at the pops and snaps and shrug the last particles of tension off.
I glance around the room letting my eyes rest on the few precious belongings I possess. A framed snapshot of my family taken before the revolution is lovingly displayed on the second hand coffee table. Life had been so simple then. We were still innocent, naive and undefiled. We are sitting around the dinner table laughing at a funny story being told by my uncle. Mom, Dad, Cole, Tucker and I all in various stages of laughter. To this day I can't remember the story, I just recall it was funny. This picture helped me survive the pitch-black weeks and months of my life that ensued in the aftermath of the insurrection. Even now it brings a smile to my heart.
The small round table in the corner of the room was my grandmother's and the trinket box that rests on it was my father's. I 'll never forget my delight at discovering these treasures long buried underneath the ash and rubble remnants of my childhood home. Echo, one of the volunteers at the shelter, patiently taught me how to properly clean and restore each piece.
Everything else was gifted from various friends or purchased after much scrimping and saving. Many are mis-matched pieces of furniture that had been well-loved and cared for long before I had need of them - the small couch in the living room, the tiny dining room table that was barely big enough for the 2 chairs that flanked it, and my bed. It was all I had, but it was mine.
I walk down the hallway to my bedroom, shrug my jacket off, and toss it onto my bed. I discard the few pieces of jewelry I wear onto my vanity table and kick my shoes off into the pitiful excuse for a closet. I fall back onto my bed and lay there, eyes closed and review the successes and failures of my day.
All in all, it was a good day. I survived the stigma of being the "new girl" and hopefully managed to appear somewhat educated and resourceful. BeeTee impressed me and I think he will be able to challenge me while allowing me to get the hang of things around the CAACD. I like Shasta and Cimarron. They seem easy to get along with and I look forward to getting to know them better. Gale is another matter altogether. I don't really know how I feel about Gale.
He seemed to listen to every word I spoke, at times focusing so intently on what I was saying that it took him several awkward moments to realize I asked a question. He was extremely polite and professional, not at all condescending, jotting down notes at a couple of my suggestions, but somehow I was left with the impression that there was somewhere else he needed to be.
He maintained more than a professional distance between us, causing me to double check that I had indeed applied deodorant today. He seemed to be in a perpetual state of conflict, one moment taking time to explain the smallest detail and the next moment becoming agitated as though he couldn't wait to get the tour over with. There is more, something underlying, but I can't make any sense out of it. The pieces don't fit and I don't know if I should take it personally or just shrug it off. There seems to be an invisible barrier between the two of us. I don't know how it got there, or what to do about it - it's just there. I'll deal with that tomorrow. Maybe.
Maybe not.
I know this is the right move for me. I need to feel like I belong here and look forward to a new future. I'm scared, not sure if I can remove the shell I've built around myself, but I know it's time to let it go. After changing into shorts and a tank, I go through the few remaining boxes and place their contents in their new home. I break down the boxes and walk downstairs to toss them in the recycling bin. Checking the time, I realize I have just enough time to shower before dinner.
I vow to make some new friends soon. I tell myself it'll be nice to have a name and a face to call for no reason at all, to run to the market, borrow a cup of sugar from, or invite over for dinner. I've barely met my neighbors and I intend to bake something for each of them and deliver it to them personally. Soon. It's important that they know I'm here and that I want to be more than the stranger next door. I've been alone for so long, I hope I can find it within myself to open up and let them in.