The Move

INTRO​

First off, I want to tell you all that this is my story. My life story to be exact. It starts on March 22 of this year. Names have been changed (except for the dogs and mine), and the beginning is changed to be less painful. I can't think of any other way to let out all the pain I'm in. For some of you, this will remind you of a move you went through. For others, it will simply be a story of a girl who moved to a different state. And for others still, this will be a 'pitiful cry for attention'. If you are in the last group, please don't read any further.

Rated: PG-13
PART ONE​

As the last note of my song bounced off the bedroom walls, I realized I was crying. I looked at the faces of my two best friends; not a single tear. I wondered if it was because they had accepted the fact that they wouldn't see me for a very long time or if I was crying through my song and it sounded so horrible that if brough through none of the emotions I'd wanted it to.

My name is Angelina Amarosa. I'm fifteen years old and I live in San Jose, California. Well, I would be for the next few hours. My father had gotten a job in Draper, Utah after being laid off from his job in San Jose. He'd told us all that it was 'unfortunate' that the job took us so far away from our friends. That was an understatement.

I waited for one of my friends to say something as I was barely capable of breathing through my racking sobs.

"Please," I managed to stutter out. "One of you say something."

"We can still call each other and e-mail." Rachelle, my friend of five years, whispered. "And I'll be able to visit soon."

"That's right," Cassie, my friend of eleven years, agreed. "Though I probably won't see you until next summer."

I forced myself to stop crying so that I could speak. "I know all that," My voice still cracked. "But I'll be finishing ninth grade in a different state. And I won't be in Cabaret. And I'll never be able to say 'I graduated from Oak Grove High School.'"

"Maybe you're new school will perform Cabaret," Cassie smiled at me.

"But it won't be with the Oak Grove cast," I contradicted. I looked at Rachelle and noticed she'd broken into tears. She got off the bed and came to me to hug me. I lightly rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her.

Rachelle was one of my best friends, that much I can tell you is true. But I wanted us to be something more. I'd had a huge crush on her for two years now. The only problem was that she is straight. Not to mention her boyfriend. My jealousy of him weighed as much as the Earth itself. I practically turned green every time I saw them holding hands.

Rachelle and Cassie knew that I was bisexual, but only Cassie knew how I felt about Rachelle. I wanted to tell her how much I really loved her before I had to leave, but I knew that I'd never have the guts to do it.

When Cassie moved off the bed, I reluctantly let go of Rachelle. Her beautiful face was torn by a sadness I knew all too well. I handed her one of my unused tissues. Even when she was crying, she was still so pretty.

"Sorry," Rachelle mumbled after blowing her nose. Her voice was as ragged as mine.

A knock on the door sent a spike through my heart. I'd nearly forgotten the time and place. I glanced at the clock.

"That must be my mom," I choked back another wave of tears. It was near midnight and Cassie and Rachelle had school the next day.

None of us bothered to wipe our eyes as we went to the front door. Sure enough, it was my mom. Rachelle and I said good-bye to Cassie; my good-bye was long and involved more tears.

I tried to shut out the sound of Cassie's front door closing as Rachelle, my mom, and I walked to the Highlander. I sat in the back with Rachelle. None of us spoke and I was thankful that my mom didn't turn on the radio.

It was barely a five minute drive from Cassie's house to Rachelle's. Along the way, Rachelle's silent sobs ripped tiny pieces of my heart away. She saw behind the driver seat, while I sat in the middle, and we held each other the whole way.

I knew that she didn't want to let go of a friend, but I didn't want to let go of a very, very special friend.

"We're here," My mom broke the silence by stating the obvious.

Rachelle and I got out of the Highlander quietly and walked to Rachelle's front door. She opened the door and we were assaulted by her dogs.

It was easy for me to pick which bark belonged to which chihuahua. Chiquita's was a defensive bark with a motherly tone. Gipper's was a half-bark, half-howl. Lucy, the newest addition to this miniature pack, still had her puppy bark. Scrappy's bark was the one I listened for. It almost sounded as though he was dying. I was in love with that sound. He was the most hostile of the four, but he'd somehow claimed me as his human.

A small, but sad, smile came to my face as I picked him up. I held his tiny body so that his paws were on my shoulders. My laugh was rough and cracked as Scrappy relentlessly slobbered on every inch of my face.

I was sure he could tell something was wrong because his little paws clung to me and he kept licking away my tears. This was another stab to my heart; Scrappy and I had a bond that I never wanted to be severed. He was my third best friend. I kissed his nose, murmuring a good-bye. Very slowly, I set him on the ground, but he jumped back up on my leg like he was begging me to take him with me or at least hold him longer.

I held back a sob and looked at Rachelle. She knew that I loved Scrappy as much as she loved Chiquita. Our pained eyes met and I had to look away.

"Don't cry anymore," Rachelle hugged me tightly. I held her close to me, not wanting to ever let go. THe words she whispered next ripped me to pieces. I will never forget them or the sound of her beautiful voice as she said them. They were the worst words she could say to me, yet I wanted to hear them more than anything else. They were the words that would send me into an oblivion of pain because I knew that she didn't mean them the way I wanted her to. I knew she would never mean them the way I wanted her to.

 

woah, the writting is really simple, but its a really good-heartwarming story.

and youre really brave to post it up here.

but look at the brightside, in utah...you can meet a very good writer that comes to KHV often.

but i liked it.

 

thank you. i can't focus on my usual writing style when i'm writing this, so that's why it's such a toned down style. here's the end of 'part one' and the beginning of 'part two'

"I love you. You know that, right?"

Those were the words that pushed me off the edge of the cliff. It felt as though she'd shot me and I was just coming out of the shock to feel the pain. All of my senses dulled and it took me a moment to recover myself.

I couldn't respond to her. I couldn't do anything but stand there with my now limp arms around her. My tears came faster, my sobs were harder.

Rachelle pulled back a bit to see my face. I assumed she was wondering why I hadn't responded. I nodded, still unable to speak. Another bullet shattered in me when she wiped my tears.

"W-we're le-leaving early to-tomorrow," I managed to tell her. "I p-promise we'll s-stop by before you go to school."

"I'll be awake," Rachelle assured me and then repeated, "Don't cry anymore."

I couldn't stand it any longer. I was broken, completely torn apart. I hugged Rachelle one last time and then took a step back.

"Tomorrow," Rachelle said. It wasn't a question; she would wake up in five hours to give me a final good-bye.

I just nodded again. I couldn't speak anymore. Once she nodded back, I started to walk back towards the Highlander. I knew I shouldn't, but I looked back and saw Rachelle holding Scrappy so that he wouldn't run after me like we both knew he would. She waved and then turned to go into her house.

I stopped to watch her. I could see the tears on her cheeks even from this distance. Her front door shut and I bolted to the Highlander and got in the back seat.

I didn't stop crying the whole ten minutes back to the hotel. My throat was raw and my eyes hurt by the time we were in the room. But everything else was numb.

I was still crying as I got in to the bed. I was exhausted, and I had a feeling I would be crying in my sleep. I didn't think I'd ever stop crying.

I was out cold the second my head hit the pillow.

PART TWO​

Five hours later, I was woken up by the sounds of movement in our tiny room.

I didn't want to move. Not only because I was tired, but also because I'd have to get into a car that would take me eight hundred miles from my whole life.

Instead of thinking about what I was doing, I let myself go numb. I didn't hear the news that my dad had turned on, or my brother complaining of the hour. I grabbed clothes from my suitcase and headed to the bathroom.

I kept the water warm as I lazily showered so that I wouldn't fully wake up. I didn't want to feel the pain before I had to.

I half blow dried my hair and go dressed. Jeans and a T-shirt that said 'this is my grumpy day' with a graphic of GrumpyBear on it. I seriously considered changing my shirt, but I didn't care enough or have enough energy.

 

if this started on march 22....then from that day foward your life was interesting enough to make a story about it.

i know how you feel....i really do....the thing she was going to say, i could figure what it was instantly....because ive been there.

yeah....its hard you know.

but i hope youve made friends and gotten used to your new home.

 

That's all I'll write for today.

I miss her so much.... I wish she hadn't said that. It tears a new whole in me every time I think about it....

New friends? No.

Gotten used to it here? A bit.