When I first came to this town I had no idea why I ended up here or who killed my mom because I knew she was always careful with fire. I didn't understand why all this was happening to me, I was always the good girl that everyone wanted as a daughter.
I am 16 years old, five-eight, brown hair and brown eyes. I was the president of the student council and I was in all the honors class the high school had to offer. I also was the captain of the cheerleading squad, but all that had to change when I found out my mom died in a mysterious kitchen fire and now I'm on my way to my only living relative I have left. My grandma that I never knew about but apparently she knows everything about me and think she even knew my father.
When I pulled up to the drive way she walked through the front door of the last house on elm street. How tacky does that sound I mean come on elm street, who in the world came up with that name. Whoever did must really like horror movies.
Well anyway when I walked up the steps she pulled me into this gigantic hug sort of like she never wanted to let go. I tried to pull away but the more I tried the more she squeezed until I couldn't breath.
“Um Karen, uh I can’t um breath, Please let go, thanks I am really grateful you let go.” I asked out of breath.
“ Oh my willy-whackers I am so very sorry I did not mean to squeeze you so hard but, you remind me of your mom when she was your age.”
Wow did she just seriously say willy- whacker, I think I’m not in Maryland anymore and I think I got lost on the way. After that little confirmation she led me to my room.
I was almost done unpacking when I found my favorite sweats so I decided to change into them. I got up to close the shade when I turned it flew up, but I didn’t touch it. When I went to pull it down there was a cute blond guy in the house next door looking at me. I thought it was way creepy that he was staring at me, while I was getting dressed. After that I slipped on my pants since they were already half way up I went into the bathroom, which was right across my room to put my shirt on because I didn't want to do it in front of the guy that was staring at me through the window.
I opened the bathroom door and the first thing I come across is a picture of my mom and a guy with curly, dark, chestnut colored hair. The guy had hair just like mine and we had the same color of eyes. It occurred to me that this might be my father because my mom had blond hair and hazelnut eyes. I really missed my mom right now just looking at the picture. I took down the picture and sat on the toilet. I started crying even though I told myself I wouldn’t after her funeral.
I heard my grandma talking to someone on the phone so I decided to see who she was talking to. I tiptoed into my room as quiet as possible and put the picture in my dresser drawer. Silent as possible I went downstairs and to the kitchen. Standing next to the kitchen door I heard every word of the conversation that went on. It sounded like this.
“She doesn’t know anything, of course I am positive, please get off my back.” That does not sound like the grandma who bakes cookies and says Willy-whacker. Something fishy is going on here and it’s not because she is making fish which I hate. Whatever is going on, I am going to find out.
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