Prologue

       "Ashta! I know you are upset, but do not be so childish about this!" my mom scolds as I give her the silent treatment, stareing out the window of the van. "It's a new life, a new start. It is just what we need after...after," she falters "well...you know, recent events." I make sure she is looking then take out my CD player, putting in my headphones and turning up the volume. I know, I know, CD player? Is that just a little old? Well, I guess I am just old-fashioned. I love my CD player, really, I just love anything that has to do with music, but I love my CDs better than any MP3. I listen to some Italian music as I stare blankly out the window, watching the scenery fly by in a myriad of colorful blurs, some more distinct than others. My favorite song, Time To Say Goodbye, comes on and I fight the urge to hum. I had decided to only speak in mom's company when absolutely nessasary, which, sadly, included humming.

       I think back to our route: From Valparaiso we will go down 65 until we get to Birmingham, then we will go south-west on 20, all the way to Tuscaloosa. Small town, most likely filled with country people. Cowboy boots, giant belt buckles, and cowboy hats, girls in daisy dukes and guys with a drawl to their voice who drive tractors. I bet they even live on farms. We pull into a gas station in Nashville and I stick my CD player into my messenger bag, earbuds spilling out the side, ready for use. "where are you going?" my mom asks as I slide open the door "Getting a pop." I answer quietly. "Well, don't be long," she hands me a ten "Get me one to, and a bag of chips." she glances at dad "And get him one to, I think we could all use the caffine."

       I nod and put my earbuds in. Going inside I head to the back, grab each of our favorite pops, a bag of chips for mom, and a bag of teriaki jerky for me and dad. After checking out I head back out to the car, hand mom her stuff through the window, then grab the jerky and head around to the other side of the van where dad was filling up. I rip open the bag, guessing dad would smell it and look around. My theory proves correct and I reach in, grab a piece, and ever so tantilizingly wave it just out of his reach. He caps the gas tank and takes a step twards me "Hand over the jerky." he tells me "Or I may have to consort to underhanded means to aquire it." I smile and take off, running around the parking lot with him close behind.

       I take a turn around a car and find myself grabbed and thrown over his shoulder "Surrender the jerky!" "Never!" I cry "Then you leave me no choice." he tells me, then sets me down, trapped in the circle of his arms, and begins to tickle me. I writh in his arms, laughing so hard tears run down my cheeks. That was my big weakness, I was excedeingly ticklish. "Okay! Okay! I surrender!" "Promise?" dad asks, laughing at me "Promise!" I manage to gasp, still laughing. He stops tickling me and has to hold me up for a moment until I can stand on my own. We look at each other, then start laughing again. "Come on you two!" mom calls "We have a lot more driveing to do!" her voice sobers me. I wasn't mad at dad, I mean, it was not his fault that mom had insisted we move to some country southern hick town. In fact, dad had refused until mom had thrown a fit.

       It was not just any fit, either, oh, goodness no, it was a "mother fit". For the next month she spoke in a flat voice. Sometimes overly cheerful, sometimes cold and calculateing. Every door she closed was closed so quietly you would have to strain to hear it. She spoke in a formal tone with everyone, even me. The tension was thick enough you could scoop it up, bottle it, open the jar later, and it would not come floating out. Dad finally gave in and said we would move. Mom immediatly perked up and I immediatly adapted the silent treatment with her. Dad later talked to me about how he understood that I did not want to leave, but it was what we had to do. I understood why we had to go, but that did not make it any easier.

       We get back in the van and the scenery begins to rush by again. No, it was not rushing by, I was. After a while I change out CDs and lean back my seat, grabbing a blanket from the back and useing it to cover my head from the light filtering through the window. I close my eyes and let myself be submerged in the piano's soothing yet thrilling notes. I allow the music to transport me to different worlds, each new and unique. Mom and dad always joked that one day I'd wake up as an MP3 player or jukebox, either that or an insrument of some kind. I have always loved usic, in that there was no debate. Even when I was still unborn, I was always calmer when there was music playing nearby. I drift off, the music wisking me away on grand adventures and danceing through my dreams in symphonies of color and sound.

Author's Note

Okay! Quick disclaimer before we get started, Malbrook is not a real school, nor are any of the people in it real. They may be based off of others I know or have known, but none are real. Anyhow, that over with, tear me down!
Love,
CreativeCookie

Reviews

[Megara]

Love it so far:)
Time to say goodbye -*wink*wink* ;)