Chapter 2

Alexandra wakes up from her a nightmare, and has a regular day with her aunt. That is until a new neighbor moves in and Alex meets them.

One year later

“Alex...Alex...Alexandra, it's time to get up!” My aunt Rachel says in an annoyed tone as she shakes me awake.

When she does manage to wake me up, I jolt awake and immediately start to sweat a waterfall.

In response to seeing this my aunt says in concern, “Did you have that dream again?”

I sigh to calm myself down and say, “Yea, I did,”

“If you want, I can move your appointment for therapy to tomorrow, or-”

“Please, don't, Rachel,” I look at her with a convincing smile, “I'm fine. It was only a nightmare.”

She purses her lips, and shakes her head to show me that she understands.

I then say in the same convincing tone, “Thank you, Aunt Rachel, I'll be down for breakfast in a minute.’’

She shakes her head in understanding again, then leaves the room.

The second she leaves, I let out a sigh of relief. She always tries to make me feel as comfortable as she can, and I always go along with it to please her. The problem with that is, that when things break, they break for good.

Ever since my parents died the night of the car crash one year ago, I have never been able to be the same. I always try to put on a brave face so people don't worry. Aunt Rachel told me that between the three of us, I was the one who had the least amount of injuries. All I had were a few cuts, a sprained wrist, and a broken ankle. I also went into a coma for a few days, and Rachel said that she stayed by my side the whole time I was unconscious. She's a nice person, isn’t she? Sometimes I wish I was the one that died, so my parents could have been the ones to live.

I hate being abandoned.

After I finish reminiscing, I get out of bed and get dressed. I wear a plain navy blue shirt with black jeans that fit perfectly. I then put on black boots that go up to the middle of my shin.

I leave it at that since I don't want to do anything with my hair today, so I go down stairs to eat breakfast.

Breakfast was the same as always. I pretend to be okay, we talk about our plans for the day, and then we clean up the table.

After we clean the table, Aunt Rachel inquires how we should take our Cotonese dog, Warner, out for his daily walk. I agree, and then wait for her to get ready for our walk. As I wait, I get out everything we'll need, and then I sit on our new couch that is the color of scarlet red. I can’t help but admire how it matches perfectly with our other chairs in the room along with the soft red that was painted on the walls a few years ago when my aunt moved in..

The second I sit down, Warner jumps on me, and I can't help but slightly laugh at how adorable he his.

“I love you so much.” I say with the biggest smile on my face.

We got Warner a few months ago in hopes that it would help my depression that surfaced after the accident. Although spending time with Warner does make me feel the beautiful feeling of joy, I can't help but feel this tinge of sadness shoot through my veins, and straight into my heart where it knows it can hurt me the most. I want to show my parents this wonderful dog Aunt Rachel got me, but how can I when they're dead?

The second I hear Aunt Rachel start going down the steps in her light green tennis shoes, dark blue yoga pants and shirt with her hair, that she always colors black, pulled up into a tight ponytail, I snap out of my dark mindset on how I should've been the one to die.

“Are you ready?” She asks hoping I'll say yes.

I nod my head, and then we get going.

“Oh my gosh, I almost forgot my sunglasses! Alex, start walking without me I'll catch up.” My aunt says in a bit of a flustered tone.

I nod my head in understanding again, and begin the walk.

We walk Warner the same route almost every single day. We walk all the way to Mini Marte, which is a small grocery store that's runned by an old lady named Marte. After that, we walk all the way back to our house, and by that time, we are all tired out from walking more than six blocks. Our town is a bit odd, but every town has its ups and downs.

The town that my parents and I lived in had a bizarre person named Clyde who would endlessly travel the streets, and would mention how the world would be ending next week. The worst part about that situation, was that he didn't even live in our town! No one knew where he actually lived, and my parents would always make harmless jokes about him.

Just as I was walking off our porch and turning right, I hear unfamiliar voices and a box fall out of an average sized, white moving truck.

I make sure the leash that is keeping Warner from running away is securely wrapped around my hand, so I can pick up the box and give it to one of the people in the truck.

As I pick up the box, a woman, who I assume is the person that's moving, walks up to me. As she is walk towards me, I can see that she has a tinge of recognition in her eyes that remind me of freshly laid cement. I've never seen her before, so I immediately push that thought to the side, and give her the box.

“Thank you, for picking this up, dear,” she grabs the box then continues talking to me, “I’m new here.”

After she confirmed that assumption of mine, I said, “I thought you were new! My name’s Alexandra but you can call me Alex. I live right next door to you, so if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to talk to Rachel, my aunt.”

The moment I said mine and my aunt's name, I could tell she definitely knew about my family by the look in her zealous eyes.

“You're Bella’s daughter aren't you, dear?” The woman said with questionable excitement.

Once she said my mother's name, I was completely caught off guard, “What? Did you know my mother?”

“Yes, I did,” the woman laughed, “she was such a lovely lady. I haven't seen her in years is she over her sister's house?”

“Oh,” I say knowing that I need to tell her what happened, “she died...both of my parents died a year ago actually.”

She puts her hand to her mouth to cover up the wave of shock she just went through, which I got use to seeing, “I'm so sorry,” she then shook her head like she just tasted something terrible, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't get rid of the taste.

I try to make the subject more light hearted for the both of us, so I tried to cheerfully say, “How long did you know her?”

She grins for a few seconds, then responds to my question, “Since grade school,”

“Wow, what's your name, maybe my mother talked about you.”

“My name's Ann,” the woman says with a painful smile that shows she's fighting back memories and emotions of heartbreak all at the same time.

Her name doesn’t ring a bell, so I smile at her again and say, “Well, it's very nice to meet you, Ann, and you don't need to feel bad for me,” I say in a terrible attempt at comforting her, “I know both of my parents are in a better place talking with God right now.”

I said it like that because I'm Christian. I never took my faith seriously, and it’s probably because my parents never forced it on me like Rachel does. If there was a god, then why does the world suck? If there was a god, why do people get raped and abused?

Why did my parents have to die if there's a kind, loving god above my angelic head?

Nowadays, I just play the part of a Christian. Say that comment like this, pretend you believe this rather than this, don't act like this or you go to hell, and most of all, you must do everything perfect or you will never have a chance to make it to heaven. That's the part I must play everyday. If I don't, my aunt disciplines me and calls me a disgrace to the the church.

After I played the innocent Christian, Ann says, “I'm glad to hear you're positive towards that matter.”

I smile once again, and say, “Thank you, and did you know my mom well? I just have a few questions that Aunt Rachel doesn't like to answer.”

Ann perks up and says, “Yes, I knew her very well actually! We knew each other for the longest time,” the young woman says as she grabs a small chunk of her chestnut hair and puts it behind her small, tan ear, “I even knew you, but only until you were one.”

“Why was that? Did something happen between the two of you?” I say with more interest than I should have shown.

Once I said that, I noticed Warner was becoming very impatient and pacing as far as the leash allows him. I glance at him and, even though I know it won't work, I try to telepathically tell him to hold on a bit longer because now is my chance to get truthful answers.

Ann responds to my question by flamboyantly saying, “ Oh no, nothing happened between us. My husbands in the military, so we're always moving. That's him over there actually.” She points to a tall blonde man carrying what looks like a new fridge. He is wearing a blue flannel with blue jeans that are as blue as the morning sky on a perfect day with no clouds to be seen. That must be the type of clothes they wear in an event like that because Ann is wearing the exact same outfit, but in light green.

Before I can respond to her comment, she turns back to me and says, “I married Jason, my husband, around the same time your parents got married.”

“Were they always so happy together because I've never seen such a perfect relationship before, and I hope God can get me the perfect man someday.” I say in an innocent tone since it's become quite the habit to squeeze a few Christian lines into my conversations.

She then gives me an odd look, and before she said anything, I automatically start to think that she saw through my facade somehow, “That's not the type of relationship I remember.”

“What,” I say shocked and confused all at the same time.

Ann sighs and goes on to say, “Yea, she was always a happy person until she met your father then…” Ann then pauses, and tries to get the words out without having another emotional breakdown inside her head.

Just as she was about to continue, suddenly I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. I quickly turned around and saw that it was my aunt.

“Hey,” Aunt Rachel says in an odd tone that's so odd, it’s impossible to describe it, “looks like you didn't get far on your walk, Alex.” She then goes to look at Ann, and makes it rudely obvious that she remembers her.

“Oh, um, I ran into our new neighbor…her name is-”

“Ann,” Rachel said continuing my sentence in a disgusted tone like she just saw someone attempting to eat a bug, “Yes, I know who she is, Alex, how have you been, Ann?”

“I've been very well actually, and we were just talking about Alex's parents,” Ann says respectively, “how have you been, Rachel?”

“I've also been very well.” My aunt says in such a tense tone it almost hurts my ears to listen, so I try to focus on Warner’s endless effort on escaping the sturdy leash..

After an awkward pause and Warner continuing his limited pacing, the atmosphere starts to normalize again, and Aunt Rachel talks to me in her usual, loving tone, “You look like you're getting hot, Alex. How about we walk the dog later.”

“Actually could I talk to Ann-”

She cuts me off again without hesitation, “Maybe you two can talk later. She obviously needs to focus on moving in right, Ann?”

“Well,” Ann begins nervously afraid to speak her mind, “Alex can do as she pleases.”

I quickly spit out my thoughts before Rachel has the chance to process what Ann just said, “Then I want to go talk to Ann longer.”

“Like I said, Alex,” she says with a stern tone that means I better listen or I'll get punished, “Ann needs to move in, so how about another day.”

I sigh with defeat showing in my pale face, and miserably agree with her that I should go back home.

After we all say our quick goodbyes, my aunt and I begin our one minute journey home.

Once we go home, I go straight to my room, and think about the conversation I just had. I was so close to getting a few questions answered, but I guess I wasn't close enough. It's almost like I'm not suppose to find out about my parents. Why was their relationship so perfect, and how come my mom is nothing like her side of the family when it comes to certain things? I have so many questions, that my mind is going to explode.

Now that I think about it, were my parents acting weird a few days before they died? Now I know I'm overthinking everything. Maybe Aunt Rachel is right. Maybe I should stay in my bubble and save these questions for another day.

I then fell asleep, and when I woke up, I went down stairs and sat at the white marble kitchen table watching Rachel cook dinner.

That's another weird thing about Rachel, she only has one room that's white, and it's the kitchen. She insists on keeping it white. Every other room is a darker shade. I've asked her several times if she ever plans to switch it up, but she immediately changes the subject. She even goes out of her way to keep it spotless because if her kitchen isn’t as white as bleach, then she gets furious. Everyone is obsessed with something in their life I know that, but her obsession is just a bit odd. I remember this one time when I spilt orange juice on the pristine kitchen table in front of her, and let’s just say I never came closer to death, and I was in a car accident a few weeks before that happened.

I always like to watch Rachel cook. She's very talented with a knife, and she can do almost any knife trick you can think of. I’m always trying to get her to teach me one, but she refuses.

When a few minutes of silence goes by, I decide to bring up Ann.

“Were you and Ann friends because you didn't seem too happy to see her.” I said hoping she would answer me.

She stops dicing the bright orange carrot to broadly answer my question in a way that sounded like she was in a trance when she answered, “Yes,”

At least I got an answer, but I try to push my limit by saying, “Why were you rudely talking to her? Did you two have a falling out?”

She does the same bizarre thing again and says, “No,”

I don't know why, but when she said that I suddenly had a wave of chills wash over me like a rough wave of water.

I know I shouldn't do what I'm about to do, but I'm sick of how she treats me like a little kid who isn't allowed to know things, so I say in a demanding tone, “Please explain to me why you treated her like a filthy dog then.” She looks up at me with anger in her eyes, but I continue anyways, “I don't understand why you insist on hiding things from me! What is there to hide, Rachel, because from what I can see, everything I've asked you has always been innocent curiosity. To add to that-”

She slams the knife on the stained cutting board, and yells at me, “Go to your room right now!”

I sit their and decide to stand up for myself for once, “Not until I get answers!” I yelled back.

She gives me a stare that could easily kill someone and says in a ‘if you disobey me one more time you're dead’ tone, “Please, Alexandra, go to your room unless you want grounded and punished. I have sacrificed so much for you, and it would be rather disappointing if I sacrificed my dreams for a rebellious teenager like you.”

I feel my face turn several shades of dark red, so I sigh to calm myself down, “I'm staying here...but I can change the conversation.”

She makes a sigh of relief, and then says in a calm tone, “Thank you, that's all I'm asking of you, Alex.”

The way I can tell if my aunt forgives me, is when she says the shortened version of my name, so I continue to gently push her again.

“She seemed nice to-”

Rachel cuts me off again to say, “No she's not, and I don't want you talking to her! She's a bad person,” she sighs then asks me in a smart tone, “and I'm sure you're dying to know that too, so here you go are you ready to hear the story?”

She said that last part with a quiver, but I ignored it and responded to her, “Yes.”

She breathes then says, “Your mother was depressed,” I was shocked when I heard that, but I continue to listen, “and Ann fed off of that. Before she was pregnant with you, she got so bad, that  she tried to overdose. Everyday Ann would make her feel worse and worse.” She stopped to wipe her tears then took a deep breath, “We told her to stay away from Ann, but she just couldn’t see the truth. She would always respond by saying, ‘I don't care, she's been my friend for several years.’ After Ann moved, she finally started getting better. Do you see why you need to avoid her as much as you can? I care for you, Alex. I know you want to know more about everyone and I love that, but I don't love seeing you hurt.”

Hearing that made me speechless. I didn't know what to say or how to say it. My mind was so blown away from the shock that it felt like someone shot me in the head. Did mom actually feel that way? Ann seemed so nice there's no way she could be like that, but maybe she could be and I didn't notice that side of her because we just met.

Even though I don't know how to feel, I think of something to say, “Is this true?”

She keeps a straight face while confidently responding to my question, “Yes, Alex, I would never lie to you.”

I shake my head in understanding, then I sit there in silence as she continues to dice up more vegetables for the soup she makes at least once a week. Her favorite thing to eat is soup. I don't mind it that much. You get use to it after a few weeks.

After another long period of silence, Aunt Rachel smiles and says, “Do you want to watch a movie after I put it on the stove?”

I stopped daydreaming to tell her my answer, “Okay, I'll be in the living room waiting.”

I got up to go walk past my aunt and into the small hallway that leads to the living room. I sit on the couch and watch Warner sleep on his bed in the corner of the room as I’m still thinking about what she told me. That was the first time she ever told me something about my mom, and I won't make it the last.

Author's Note

Please tell me your honest opinion on this chapter and the story so far because I plan to publish this when I'm done.