Looking For a Lifeline CHAPTER 1
Sunday, May 30th, 2010
CHAPTER 1
“It’s for the best, just remember honey, I love you, and this isn’t the end, just a new beginning”. My mother’s exact words before I left in an old, smelly cab leaving for who knows where. The past few weeks of my life have been on Earth. I cry myself to sleep almost every night, wondering why the things that happened to me HAD to happen. My cab halts to a stop in front of what seems to look like an unbelievable mansion you’d only find in movies. The driver opens the door for me and hands me my three suitcases stuffed with all my necessary clothes, shoes, and so on. I cautiously take a few steps forward before a flashback strikes my mind. I remembered me, in front of my middle school, just a few years back, I had my ragged Dickies backpack slung over one of my shoulders, as I entered only to find a few dark-skinned girl giving me a harsh glance. One looked carefully around for any supervising adults before she ran up to me and kicked me to the floor and stole my wallet from my backpack. I didn’t tell the principal I got beat up, I told him that I trip on the stairs going inside. I shudder and the memory I wish had drifted away from my memories came back. Just as I am about to knock on the monumental mansion’s door, I hear the screech of tires behind me. I hesitantly turn to see a guy, black spikey hair, around my age, hopping out of a very expensive looking car. He slams the door shut and stares at me perplexed.
“Hey, are you that girl that my mom says has to live with us?” he asks me leaning against his car.
“Yea…,” I reply as I nod apprehensively.
“Cool, hey do you like my ride? It’s a Blu Tour De France Ferrari California, Charcoal trim, 20″ sport diamond-finished wheels, it’s a dream,” he tells me, he seems slightly self-absorbed.
“Yes, it’s nice,” I tell him standing stationary in front of the front door.
“Well, let’s head inside,” he explains, grabbing his keys and walking up the steps to meet me.
He unlocks the door and steps aside to let me in. He takes one of my suitcases and follows me inside. The foyer of his house is decisively gorgeous, with a chandelier that hangs from what seems like a never-ending ceiling and a beautiful staircase to my left. I sigh and try to take everything in.
“Cool, isn’t it?” he says looking around as well, “Hey mom! Our guest is here!”
“Oh, how wonderful!” a woman, around 35, 40 years of age at the most, eagerly parades into the room, “How are you Selena?”
“I’m fine…,” I reply nonchalantly.
“Let’s take you upstairs to your room, and you can get settled in, Taylor, help us with her bags!” the mother orders her son as they make their way up the staircase as I quietly follow.
“This is your room, Selena!” Taylor’s mother exclaims collapsing my suitcases beside my bed.
“How beautiful, thanks Mrs.-,” I stop not knowing what her name was.
“Mrs. Lautner,” she smiles, “You may call me Debby.”
“Thanks Mrs. Lautner,” I say sitting down on the bed.
“Well I’ll be off now, I’ll make you some snacks,” she explains walking out my room.
“So, you’re here from the Witness Protection Program?” Taylor asks handing me one of my suitcases.
“Yea…,” I reply thrusting one of my suitcases onto my bed to unpack.
“Were you involved in some kind of homicide or mall lockdown?” Taylor questions, completely intrigued with my life.
“You don’t need to know,” I explain placing my pajamas on an armchair that face doors welcoming me to a balcony.
“Fine then, see you later Selena,” he winks at me before he strides down the hallway and ascends down the staircase.
Is Taylor one of those guys that flirt with any girl they encounter? I roll my eyes, I hate guys that are so narcissistic that they believe they can make any girl melt in their palms just by saying hi or winking. They wouldn’t be like that if they grew up where I lived.
Duration : 0:0:25