My New Life-Elizabeth

I stare out the window, watching nothingness roll by. Mom has tried to start some conversations. I shut them all down. I’m not in the mood for her usual cheery chatter. As we progress down the winding New Hampshire road, the landscape becomes dotted with more and more trees and less and less civilization. There isn’t a single car in sight.

            “So are you excited?” she cautiously asks for the fourth time.

            “No” I plainly spit back. My eyes stay focused on the same smudge on the window. I squint, using every ounce of energy I have to not shift my eyes towards her.  Despite my silly efforts, I still look and find her catching glances at me through the mirror. She keeps sighing and she has that “concerned mother” look on her face, the one that she has when she’s worried for me. My face burns with guilt and anger and every other sick emotion I’m feeling right now. Why does she always have that look on her face? It makes me feel worthless. Stupid. I try to ignore her and go back to my smudge on the window. The last thing I remember is staring at that smudge until my eyes drooped and I couldn’t hold them open any longer.

…

            I wake up later and right away I notice it is dark outside. I strain my neck to see the clock. It reads 12:37. I was asleep for five hours. My mom sees  that I’m awake. She opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something but then decides better and closes her lips. Her eyes shift back to the road. Thank God. I press my forehead against the cold window. I see cars and a few small houses lined up at the side of the road. We are no longer on the highway but instead, we slowly cruise through a small neighborhood. The area is so stereo-typical; Perfect little houses, white with light blue shutters. Flowers planted out in front, complimenting the perfectly green grass. Sprinklers feed the growing plants, chig chig chig. I open the window just a crack to hear it better. Chig chig chig. It’s stuck in my head. I close my eyes and listen to the slow steady pattern of the sprinklers. The cold air sneaks through the cracked window and slips around me. I shiver and quickly close it. I huff on the pane and draw an "A" and "J" with a heart around it.

            “Get your things together,” I jump at the sound of my moms’ voice, “We’re almost there.”

I angerly scribble out my masterpiece. We are almost to the location where my new life will begin.