1 Chapter 1- Moving

Iris POV

They say your life is your story and when writing it, you can’t give someone else the pen. I haven’t given anyone my pen, because I was never given a pen. Before I could ever grasp it, it was stolen from me and the thieves were none other than my family.

“Iris!” I heard my mother’s sharp and elegant voice calling me. I hurriedly grabbed my purse and went down the stairs.

I was met with 4 approving stares. Well Of course that’s what I would get. I had followed the instructions perfectly.

I wore the exact clothes that were placed I was given. It was a grey dress with silk embroidered flowers on it.

It was beautiful, but I wished I could wear a simple shirt and jeans, but I don’t get that privilege.

“Let’s go” my father said as he made his way towards the door. Everyone followed behind him.

Just before getting into the car that would take us to the airport, I looked at the place I had called my home for my entire life.

I know I don’t have a lot of happy memories at this but I’m still gonna miss, after all, it was all I had ever know, It was my prison and safe haven.

I quickly got in the car so as to not keep them all waiting too long. The car ride was silent.

I kept myself busy by looking out the window. The place I had called home passed by in a blur and before I knew we were boarding the plane, taking us to a new country we would have to call home.

***

As we got out of the airport we saw a driver there waiting for us. I have no idea how he knew we were coming or who called him but I normally don’t know these things.

After all, I was a girl so I have no business in that type of stuff. This car ride was silent as well -not that I expected anything else- so I kept busy by looking out the window, besides I probably wouldn’t be allowed out for a while.

We reached our new house and... it's exactly how I thought it would be, a huge mansion and showing off how rich this family is.

“Your stuff is already in your room, Iris. I will take you there.” I heard my father say as he started walking inside.

I followed him without uttering a word. Of course, my room would already be chosen and organized to my parent’s likings.

I entered my room and saw that it was similar to my old bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed In the middle of the room with a side table or both sides of it. Beside the left side table, there was a homework table. To my left, there were two Doors which probably led to the walk-in wardrobe and the bathroom. To my right, there was a small balcony with double glass doors.

I’m sure every girl would love to have a room like this and I loved it too, but the only problem was that everything was pink and white.

I don’t have anything against the particular color scheme, but it feels really babyish.

I can’t complain though, I would get in so much trouble if I said anything bad about it.

I went toward the bathroom and freshened up. Dinner wouldn’t be until 8 and it was still 6 so I went towards the bookshelf which already had all my books in it somehow-just like my wardrobe already had my clothes in it- picked up a book, sat on my bed, and started reading.