I hope you like it, enjoy and let me know what you think :)

The sky was as blue as it possibly could be, and the sun was shining, all in all it was the perfect summer day.

I looked around, and saw a bunch of children running around laughing. It really seemed like everyone was having fun, and enjoying themselves. To everyone else it probably was the perfect day, but then again I wasn't like everybody else. That's probably why this wasn't a perfect day for me. It could have been a beautiful day; I could have been outside playing around with Jessica or just enjoying the good weather. I could have done a lot of things that would have made this day a good day, as long as I could be away from my parents, but I was never so lucky.

We were moving again, which meant that I was probably looking at my house for the last time, but that wasn't what bothered me. I didn't really care about the house. I had only been here for a couple of months. I had only made a few friends, and they wouldn't miss me like I wouldn't miss them. Nobody knew we were moving that was how it always was, but that wasn't what bothered me either. I had gotten used to the sudden moving and leaving everything behind.

The thing that bothered me was that my mother seemed extremely happy, and the worst thing was that my father did too. I knew that if they were both happy, my father would get extremely annoyed at me if I wasn't happy too or at least acted as if I was. So I had to plant a smile on my face and fake being happy for the rest of the day.

Another thing that bothered me was that I usually knew when we were moving a couple of days before, but this time I hadn't known anything until this morning when the moving van was parked outside our house.

The worst thing was that I now had to spend my whole day around my parents when I was mad at both of them. I was especially mad at my mother. She could have told me we were moving.

"Are we ready, Connie?" my father asked while he put the last case of things into the moving van. He smiled at her and then moved over, taking her hand in his.

"Yes, we are. I will just give the directions to the driver. Why don't you take the car out of the garage meanwhile?" My mother gave my father a loving smile, kissed him on the cheek, and walked over to the driver.

On the outside they really seemed like the perfect couple, but I knew so much better. Therefore I just shook my head and murmured something about her being stupid for loving him.

My father must have heard some of it because he made a sudden turn on his way to the garage, and redirected his way towards me.

"What did you say?" he said, and the stupid smile that had been on his lips all day was now long gone. It was replaced with a tight jaw, and his eyes burning with annoyance.

This was the creepy thing about my father. Not the eyes or the tone of his mad voice, but his sudden mood change. It had been like this for a long time, and I still couldn't figure out when it would happen. It always came like lightning on a clear sky.

"Nothing. I just said that my iPod is being stupid. It keeps changing songs," I said, shaking the iPod in my hand and giving it an annoyed look.

Over the years I had become the perfect actress, and I could see in my father's eyes that he had bought it. He usually always did. My mother was harder to convince. Even though she knew I lied, she usually let it go, not wanting to fight with me. I wouldn't go against my father, but I had no problem going against my mother

Even though I had convinced him, I also knew that this wasn't over. When he first got mad, he would find something new to pick on.

"You shouldn't be using it anyway. You should be helping with the moving and stop being so self-centered. You always shut yourself into your own little world with that thing. " He pointed at my iPod, and for a moment I was afraid he would take it, instead he only looked at me, expecting an answer.

"I…" I was so close to just shouting in his face, but I held myself back. It wouldn't be worth it. It would ruin the whole day, and we had a long drive ahead of us. I didn't really care if he got mad at me, but I knew it wouldn't be me who would be hit by his anger. It would be my mother.

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't me who wanted to move, and that if anyone here was self-centered it would be him. I mean, he decided everything in our family, and I hated that. Only, I didn't say any of this. I just lowered my head and nodded.

Then I spoke what I always said but never meant. "I'm sorry.")

He just nodded his head and patted me on the side of the head.

"You are a good girl. Now why don't you go get your mother, and then we can get going? And I won't take that thing from you, if you promise to show a little more happiness. "

"Of course, Father," I obliged, and went over to get my mom.

Happiness; how could I show happiness when I was together with him? I could still feel the weight of his hand on the side of my head. I hated it when he did that, and especially when he also used the stupid line '"good girl", I always felt like some stupid dog doing what he wanted. The worst thing was that I was practically a dog; I always did what he wanted because with years of experience I knew that nothing good would come out of doing the opposite.

My mom was still talking to the driver. They were laughing over something.

"Mom, Dad says that we are ready to leave. Are you coming?" I asked, putting as much irritation into my voice as possible. Maybe my father couldn't know that I was angry, but my mother was a whole other thing. I knew it was unfair to let it all go out on her, but that was what I always did.

When she turned to look at me, she was frowning; stupid smile gone from her features. I could feel a little spit of guilt in my stomach, but it disappeared as soon as her fake smile came back again.

Her smile meant that my father had to be near, and just as the thought crossed my mind, I could hear him yell.

"Come on, girls. We have a long drive ahead of us."

I turned around and saw him sitting in the car. He wasn't far away, but still so far that he couldn't hear us.

"We're coming, dear," my mom shouted to my father and then turned around to say goodbye to the driver. She was probably trying to avoid the glare I was sending her. How could she be so nice to him? I would never understand that.

"Come on, honey. We have to go," she said putting her hand on my shoulder and squeezing it, telling me to go.

"Don't 'honey' me. And I can walk by myself, thank you very much," I hissed in almost a whisper, not wanting my father to hear it. Then I pushed her hand off my shoulder and walked over to the car.

Before I got into the car, I looked over at my mother. She looked genuinely hurt, but it only lasted for a second and then her smile was back. The smile I hated more than anything, the smile I had gotten used to and the smile I usually wore myself.

She walked over to the car, patted me on the back and got in next to my dad. My dad just smiled at her, while I stood there probably looking like some fool.

"Why are you just standing there? Get in the car."

When I got in the car, I was still feeling like a dumb fool, and I had to literally shake my head to get out of the trance I was in. Then I had to stop myself from laughing. I had actually expected her to come over and apologize, or ask me what the matter was. What was wrong with me? I should have known that she would just brush it off. She always did.

I took my iPod out of the pocket from my jeans and turned it on. I put it on shuffle and sat back hoping to get swallowed by the music, as I usually did when my mind was on overload. Today it wouldn't work, I was too irritated.

Why couldn't she have told me? I was bothered by the fact that we were moving, but I would get over that. Sure I would miss Jessica a little bit. She had been a good friend during the summer and a sweet neighbor, but I would get over it. I would have liked to tell her in person that I was moving instead of having to text her. She was on a mini-vacation with her family, which was why she hadn't come over today, or else I could have told her in person. Since she wasn't home, there was nothing for me to do.

For once it hadn't been my father telling me the news of our moving. It had been my mother. She had walked into my room at six in the morning, calling my name, and telling me to get up and start packing. She hadn't given me any explanation. She just told me to pack because we were moving again. Other than that she hadn't given me an opportunity to ask any questions because she had left after placing a suitcase on my bed.

When I had finally understood what she was saying, I had flown out of the bed and down the stairs, but instead of finding my mother, I had found my father. He was putting notes on the different boxes.

I had looked around and found almost all of our stuff situated in boxes. That's when it had hit me. They had been planning this for a while without telling me anything. Usually I was at least a little bit prepared, but not this time.

When my father had finally noticed me, he had scanned me up and down and then looked at me with a bored expression. I had asked why we were moving and where we were going, but I hadn't got an answer to any of it. He had just ordered me to get packed, and then he had left.

That he hadn't answered hadn't really bothered me. I didn't care where we were going, and I knew perfectly well why we were moving. It was always the same reason, which was why I couldn't understand why my mother acted so happy.

A week ago she had told me that she thought that he was done with it, that he had changed, but this proved her wrong. Then why wasn't she mad.

I fell asleep with that thought tormenting me.

When I woke up again, it was because we had stopped to take a break. My dad had called my name and told me to go get something to eat.

"Here you go. You can get whatever you want," he said, and then walked out of the car and over to my mother who was sitting at a table eating something. She smiled at my father and gave him some of the food.

Why hadn't they just bought me something to? I wondered. This wasn't like my mother; she usually took care of me when it came to food and stuff like that. She was probably afraid that I would trough another tantrum.

Well if they wanted me to eat alone, then fine with me. I went over to the little shop and bought a sandwich and a cola. I put the last of the money in my pocket and went over to the car to eat.

I sat inside and started to eat. When I was done I took my phone out. I had gotten no messages, but that wasn't unusual. I never had any messages. I decided to tell Jessica that I had moved.

It was corny, but I just couldn't call her. I knew she would ask why and where we were going, and I didn't even know that myself so I texted her instead.

Hey Jess. I'm so sorry to tell you this but we had to move. I'm not sure where we are going yet, because it has something to do with my father's job. I'll tell you as soon as I know. I'm going to miss you.
Xoxo Your neighbor M.

I know I was lying about my father's job, but I didn't know what else to tell her.

I took out my iPod once again and laid down listening to the music flooding through my ears.

Another ditch in the road
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through

"We are here, honey," my mom said smiling, while shaking my shoulder so that I would wake up.

I sighed and then sat up, stretched and roped my eyes. I looked out of the window, and saw my old house.

My eyes went wide, and I slowly stepped out of the car frowning.

What were we doing here? This was my old childhood home. We lived here from when I was born until I was 12, which was when everything started. I didn't understand what we were doing here.

"What?" I turned around to ask my mother "what we were doing here?", but she was already gone. That was when I saw my father talking to the driver of our moving van. They shook hands and then the truck opened. My dad and the driver started unloading our things.

That was when it hit me. We were moving back in. I felt like a fool. Why else would we be here. But why were we moving back? This was where it happened. Why would my dad want to go back here?

I put my iPod down into my pocket, and walked slowly over to the house. I just stood there looking at it.

"Welcome home," my dad mumbled from behind me, and then he went inside.

I stepped into the house, and looked around; everything looked like it did 4 years ago.

The last thing I got to was the stairs, and the moment I stepped onto the first step, I was immediately hit with the image of screaming and falling. I shook my head and could fell the tears in the corner of my eyes. I could remember it as was yesterday.

I walked up the stairs slowly. I knew they would probably give me my old room, and it was situated upstairs, and my parents room was downstairs. I liked it that way the best, because then I wouldn't have to listen to the screaming and crying.

I walked down the corridor to the room in the end, which used to be my room. It looked just how it used to, the same ugly yellow color on all the walls and the same wooden floor with stains from a lot of spilled cola and food.

I knew that the furniture I had now would be the same as it had been four years ago, so the room would end up looking precisely the same as last time.

I sighed and sat down on the floor, putting my head in my hands.

"Why are we back here?" I whispered to myself, and I could fell a single tear making its way down my cheek.

After a wail, I slowly got to my feet and made my way out on the hallway once again. I was about to go downstairs to get my stuff but then something stopped me.

The door into his room was open. I slowly made my way over and looked inside. Everything looked like it did back then; I could even see the little bird with the music notes swirling around it. It was located at the end of the room.

It had taken me forever to paint that, and he had loved it so much. I could still remember his joy when he had first seen it. I could feel the tears once again and decided to go out again before I would break down.

I quickly made my way outside, breathing in a good mouthful of fresh air. I looked to the side and saw our neighbor house.

"I wonder if they still live there," I murmured to myself.

I hadn't seen them in four years, and I hadn't exactly missed them. In fact one of the good things about moving had been to get away from them and mostly him. They hadn't really done anything to me; it was only him.

He had made everything worse, and just before I moved I had for the first time felt hatred for someone. But with the years I had forgotten about him, and my hatred had expanded. Not towards him, instead it had redirected towards my father.

Now I actually didn't know how my feelings where towards my neighbors, in case they still lived there. I probably wouldn't want to be friends with them, but my intentions weren't to start a war either. If we could just ignore each other, that would be fine with me.

I had enough problems as it was.

I went over to get a box from the van; I looked through all of the boxes, and eventually found one with my name written on it. It was a struggle to get it out, but eventually I got it.

The moment I lifted it out of the truck, I could tell that it was heavier than I had though.

I started to get out of balance, and just before I could sit it down on the pavement, I ended up falling backwards.

I hit my head on the pavement, and all the stuff in the box got thrown out on the road.

I groaned and was just about to get up when I could hear someone call my name, and it wasn't my mom or my dad. It still sounded familiar in some way.

I proceeded to get up, but I couldn't move for some reason. My head was banging, and I couldn't think straight.

Someone called my name once again; I could tell that it was a new voice but still a familiar voice. I looked to the side but couldn't see anything. Then someone stood in front of me, shielding me from the sun. I couldn't see anything because of the sun, and therefore I took my hands to my eyes trying to get a clear view.

"Mitchie?" the person in front of me said, with a mix of concern and surprise in his voice.

I finally got a clear view of the person. That was when I found out who was talking to me, and why the voice had sounded familiar.

"Well hello, neighbor," I said without any trace of emotion.

So what do you think? Please review and tell me..
If anyone is interested in being my beta reader let me know, i wouldn't be surprised if there are some mistakes in it.
I'm not sure about the title jet so it might change.

CamillaxbG