hidden secrets

Moving is always tough - especially when moving from a big city to a small town that no one has ever heard of. I would have to say good-bye to all my friends (correction one), plus catch up with all the school work I would have missed since I’ll be starting after mid-terms. What fun. So far the only good point I see in all this is that I’ll be moving to a town with its very own lake! According to Mom, it's also the town where she grew up in and where most of her relatives are.
Speaking of which, what about my father? The only thing I know about him is that he left right after my two-year younger sister, Carrie, was born. Don't get me wrong, I've asked Mom countless of times before about father, but those discussions never ended well. It was hard to tell whether Mom wanted to desperately forget about him or regretted having us which might have or might not have been the cause of him leaving. Question is, do I really want to know the answer or forever live in ignorance?
"Ava, hurry it up!" Carrie yelled from behind my closed door. "Mom's going to get pissed!"
"Okay," was all I replied while finishing tapping the last of the moving boxes closed. Since we were moving into our grandmother's house, all that needed to be packed were clothes, a few toiletries, and things we couldn't possibly live without - like my sister and her makeup. When I finished, I picked up the box I tapped over last and headed towards the door only to find my mother blocking the doorway. My initial thought was how I was not able to hear the door opening, and second, I'm in trouble now.
"How long are you going to keep us waiting, Ava! It's going to be a long drive as it is and I'm not planning on arriving next year! So hurry it up,” Mom exclaimed. With that, she turned and headed out the doorway and down the stairs. I could still hear the clomping of her heels. Sheesh. No wonder I have issues.
Not wanting to get another pointless lecture, I hurried and brought down the three remaining boxes in my room and helped load them in the back of the car. Afterwards we were on the road and on our one-way trip straight to hell. Literally.



About five hours have passed since our departure and let me tell you my butt is killing me. This is why I hate long drives – your body feels cramp and useless. Just a huge pile of dead weight. It also doesn’t help when I’m five-five and am surrounded by all these boxes. My fault in losing to Carrie with rock, paper, scissors.
To help pass the time, I was studying both my mom and sister to figure out what father could have looked like. Carrie definitely looks more like Mom, with her straight nose, light brown hair and big brown eyes, where I‘m the complete opposite with my thick, black hair and eyes the colour of violets. The only thing we share is the pallor of our skin. If that wasn’t enough, our personalities totally clash. Carrie is more the girly-girl type who has to be the centre of attention, while I’m your typical loner who has a tendency to go on long rants. Clearly, this information is getting me nowhere.
With that ending in a total failure, I decided to pay attention to the scenery surrounding us. We are riding on a dirt road, which, from the looks of it, haven’t been used in quite some time and completely secluded by trees. Now all we need is some serial killer with an axe and we got ourselves a typical horror flick.
Bored already, I ask, “Mom, are we almost there?”
“Yes, Ava, we are. In about an hour or so we’ll be at grandmas.”
Satisfied, I tried to get as comfy as one can get and closed my eyes when I heard Carrie scream, “Mom, look out!” I look out the windshield to see a deer less than five feet away from our car. Mom quickly veers the steering wheel left, just missing the deer.