The New House

            We lived in our last house for my entire life, all 10 years of it. Moving into a new house felt like we were betraying our old house, I felt bad for it. Some new nefarious family was going to live there. Who knows what they’ll do! What if they paint my old room to some ugly color, or get a new stove? It’s all just down hill from there, that beautiful house will plummet into some horrid thing no one gives a second look.

I met one of the girls who moved in. She seemed like a dunce, I don’t want someone so idiotic living in MY home. Well, I guess their home now; this stupid place is my house, but never my home. How could my draconian mother make us move? I have to go to a new school, leave my friends behind, and for what? Just because my sycophant sister had a baby and now we need an extra bedroom.

For months she acted like some sweet angel, before telling mother she was pregnant. If she had stayed the same, I bet we wouldn’t of even had to move. This is all her fault.