Fear of Being Alone

a-lone/ Adjective & adverb; alone; adverb; 1. having no one else present; on one's own.

Do you ever feel so alone that you simply shut the rest of the world out? I'm pretty sure that happened but my memory is pretty shot. Everything seemed to stand still after the big move from bright, arrogant New York City to god knows where. I think it's called Neverwhore? Nevershore? Oh, what did It matter. Maybe it's in Maine, but remember, my memory's shot. Now yes, I did spend my days in New York begging to move. The city life just wasn't for me. But, I didn't exactly plan on moving to the middle of nowhere with just my parents. The closest town had been eight miles away and as far as I knew, homeschooling was definitely in my near future.  The house had been surrounded by miles and miles of forest. It had been right by a small lake and the only way out was a thin, bumpy dirt road. I did have to admit however, the house was definitely a site to see. The Victorian influence had been quite intriguing. It had been built with brick, and was huge compared to any other home we have lived in. It sure wasn't a mansion with it's age and all, but eight rooms, three bathrooms, a huge kitchen, dining room, an insane number of closets, an attic, and a basement sure sounded pretty extreme to me. 

Now, of course in this humongous house I, Tyler Vause, "Beloved Son" was given the smallest room on the third floor. It was run down, torn wallpaper, stained carpet, a cracked window, and a million boxes of junk from the previous owners. 

With my own junk still a state away in the moving rental truck,  and my parents miles away in town, I decided to begin going through the boxes, throwing all away that didn't matter. I approached the mile high stack of boxes against the  wall, all of which were buried in a thick layer of dust. I carefully opened the first book to my right, a little disappointed to only discover a fine china set, something that could only interest my parents. To me, I thought of it all as junk. I re-closed the box and moved it to the other side of the room. My next box to open had been to my left. With more disappointment, I discovered the box had only contained ancient wooden children's toys. Once again, I re-closed the box, and carried it to the opposite side of the room. As I chose my third box to open, I began to think of how odd this whole situation was. Why would a family seem to abandon this place so sudden? They left every single possession and left without looking back. It all just didn't make sense to me. 

But then again, what did my opinion matter? My opinion sure didn't matter with the move, or my numerous changes in school, or even the pointless therapy sessions I was once forced into. I really didn't have much freedom. All of my decisions seemed to have been made for me, even when I had something different in mind. I guess that over the years I started to get used to it all. The constant abandonment, the never ending loneliness, the dark thoughts that flooded my head daily. This was my normal. This was my life. With a sudden doubt beginning to take over, I placed my hand on the edge of the strip of packing tape on the third box I had chosen to open. Just as I began to open it, I felt a chill up my spine which was followed by a sweet, unfamiliar voice from the doorway.  

"Need a hand?"

I instantly turned around towards the door and soon found my crystal blue eyes locked on those of a girl close to my age. She seemed to have been around 5'0 with shoulder length jet black hair, mesmerizing bright green eyes enhanced by a black liner, pale porcelain skin, and soft pink lips. A little shocked by her sudden appearance I idiotically stuttered out, 

"W-Who are you?"

"Oh, just a neighbor,"

She took a step forward, holding out her hand to me. To be polite, I shook it with a smile.

"My name's Tyler."

"I'm Emma, It's nice to meet you"

"Now, you said you were a neighbor, I thought there weren't any other houses around here except for my own,"

"Oh, no not at all, I live in a small cabin near by with my family."

"Now, ha, not to be rude or anything, but what exactly are you doing in here?"

"I noticed the boxes on the porch and assumed there were new neighbors moving in, which I was right about, so I just wanted to offer some help with unpacking."

"Oh alright, that was nice of you, but most of the boxes won't be here until tomorrow morning"

"Well then let me show you around? We can walk down to the lake and check that out."

"No, it's fine, I still have a lot of old stuff to go through and throw away,"

I placed my hand on the box once more.

"That can wait, come on, it will only take a few minutes."

"Fine, fine, just let me get my phone."

"Okay. I think you'll like it here. It's quiet, quiet is always nice."

Reviews

[Michael B. Meth]

Interesting start, and your use of the first person displays the mental instability of the protagonist well. I also like the theme of using definitions, that's the stylistic aspect that drew me to the story in the first place. I am intrigued to see where it goes. Now for the critique.

This is in need of some serious editing (as you did mention), and I would recommend examining your use of tense. There a lot of "had been" and "have done" type phrases that sound awkward in places. But with some tightening up that's easy to fix. One other suggestion is that you work on replacing exposition with action and dialogue. For example, you could have the story start on the ride to the house while the protagonist talks about these issues with his parents and they just ignore him (or whatever you would have them do), but that's just an idea. But the exposition did drag on a bit without any action to hook the reader. I'll keep reading and post another review when I have more time.

[Maxi Belamie]

I like your style, it feels natural and vibrant. Keep writing.. :))