The house

❃ ❃ ❃ two weeks later ❃ ❃ ❃

My great great grandfather built our house. It's a blue Victorian styled house with white shutters on the windows and a big red door. My mom always thought that the door was out of place and asked my father multiple times to paint the door white to match the window shutters, but Dad insisted that it added contrast to the rest of the house.

I always thought that the entire house was off. Not because of my own thoughts and opinion of course, but because the kids in my neighborhood. Our house was apparently the scary house in the neighborhood that all the kids told stories about. Being home schooled wasn't the best excuse for not having friends. That fact was bad enough. Growing up the kids always seemed to be scared of me just as they were of the house. My features were a little off compared to every other normal kid. The neighborhood kids had tan skin and their hair ranged from dark brown to the palest blonds. My skin was always pale and my hair was black and unnaturally straight, reaching my hips. My eyes were just as black as my hair and I lacked the social skills to be able to make them less afraid of me.

My brother, Johnathon, on the other hand was a social butterfly. Well he tried to be despite him being deaf. He tried to be close to the neighborhood kids and did his best to make friends, but he was an outcast due to his disability.

Johnathon is a sweet boy who cares very much for my well being and does his best to make me smile. He's a great kid, it's just that the kids from our neighborhood don't like anyone who isn't like them. If it wasn't for Johnathon being deaf and his other health problems he wouldn't have been outcasted . I would never tell him this of though. I always try my best to make him feel as normal as possible, telling him that the neighborhood kids are the weird ones and that they thought he was too cool to hang out with.

We didn't share the same physical characteristics. Johnathon looked like my dad with brownish tan skin, freckles, and dirty blond hair. Whilst I looked like my mother. Except my mother made our shared features look elegant and unique. I just look like a vampire who hasn't seen the sun in years. Johnathon and I only share one feature. Our eyes. Our eyes were so black that light barely reflected them.

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Johnathon tapped on my shoulder and signed to me that he didn't want to leave the home.

"Johnny. I don't want to go either, but dad says we're going to Oregon. I'm sure there are a lot more nicer people there!" I tried my best to give a warm comforting smile and made sure to look at him when I spoke so he could read my lips. Sometimes I did have to sign specific words to him though, but he usually associates the words to what my lips are saying and learns it.

I shuffled uncomfortably and shoved a bag from beside my hip. There wasn't any room in the back of the truck for anything else, so I had to make it work. Johnathon and I were squished together in Dad's 1972 Chevy truck. There was only a front row of seats. Three seats. Just enough room for all three of us. We were waiting for Dad to finish up his conversation with one of our neighbors, Alec, which Dad considered an acquaintance. They hadn't talked much since Mom. I had my passenger window cracked and I eavesdropped.

"Are you sure? Oregon is far from here! But I understand that you need a break since Ella pas-"

Dad cut Alec off, "Yes me and the kids need some fresh air and being here is quite suffocating for me, but I better get going. The kids are waiting for me. Thank you again Alec for all the help these past years. I really appreciate your support and don't forget to tell the wife I said farewell!" Dad waved as he started to walk towards the truck.

His fake smile dropped the moment he turned away from Alec and his light blue eyes went dark as they always are these days. He hopped in the truck and started the ignition. Then started to pull out the long, bumpy pathway. There isn't a lot of room in the truck with all of our bags. You'd think that after Dad sold off most of our stuff that there should be at least enough room to breath.

Our dad had a job at Jack's dealership and got paid good money, but he quit after mom's death. I was angry when he did. I had wanted to tell him that it was selfish, that he had two kids to feed and had to pay medical expenses for one of them. But I never said a thing. I kept my mouth shut and got a part time job myself at the Inn Diner. I thought we wouldn't have many bills to pay since we owned the small field of land that our house was on. By small field I mean we owned our yard and the trees behind us. Our grandfather had sold off most of our land when he was in his twenties. After getting the job I realized I had more bills to pay then I thought I would. I thought I was going to have to get two jobs, but my father had finally told me that I shouldn't worry because of the money our grandparents left for us when they died.

Dad and Mom agreed to never spend that money unless they really needed it and instead got their own jobs. I guess we really need it now since dad doesn't have the heart to work anymore. I kept my job, paid the smaller bills and used my checks to make sure Johnathon had what he needed medically.

I cashed my last check yesterday so that we could have a little more money for when we get there. I checked our two savings accounts while I was cashing my check to see how much money we had. We still have $63,625 left in the savings account that we usually use. There was 85,00 in the savings account that we have just in case we ever run through the 63,000. Then there's the money that dad got from selling off our stuff. Not enough to buy our own house and land, but enough to keep us somewhere nice for a while.

"Okay! Everybody ready to get going?" Dad forced a smile and looked at us. Johnathon shook his head and Dad gave a husky laugh that also seemed forced. Just a little bit.

No. No one was ready to get going. We had been here all our lives and now Dad just wanted to sell off the house that's been in our family for generations without second thought. I didn't think being in that house was suffocating in any type of way. I loved it because it made me feel closer to Mom, but I'd never tell dad that. I rarely gave my opinion on anything Dad said or did, nor did I ever question his decisions, but I just really didn't want to leave.

He looked at me waiting for my response, "What about you, bunny? You excited for this nice long road trip?" Bunny being a nickname that Dad gave me when I was little. I used to tell him that I was too old for that name, but now I let him say it as he pleases.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to ask him why. I wanted to get out the car with Johnny and tell him to go by himself if he thought the house was so "suffocating". But even though his smile and laugh seemed forced, he still had a little more life and relief in him then he did before and I didn't want to ruin that. If he thought that moving to another state was going to be better for us then who am I to cause a fuss over it and question his choice?

I gave a small smile and sighed, "Yep! I'm a little sad because we've been here for so long, but I'm ready for something new." Johnathon squinted at me and I reached over a bag to put my arm around him, "and Johnny here gets a chance to make new friends!"

I signed: "right Johnny?"

he signed back: ""sure." and rolled his eyes.