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After my little escapade at the market, the day was tediously uneventful. Unpacking, eating, five hours of boring television, more unpacking, more eating, more television, and it was time for sleep.

I hope that life here in La Whatever isn't half as boring as my first day was.

That night my sleep was, thankfully, free of nightmares, or frankly, any dreams at all. I slept dreamlessly and deeply the whole night and woke up feeling completely refreshed.

That is, until I remembered a slight detail about this morning.

School.
Ugh.

I dragged myself out of bed and stepped onto the cold floor. I had showered last night, so there was no need for that.

I rifled through my now extremely neat drawers, filled to the brim with garment after garment, before finally finding my lucky shirt.

Yeah, cheesy, but it was going to be my first day at this school, and I really wanted all the luck I could get.

I paired the shirt with a pair of old jeans with a hole right above the knee, my favorite brown converse (complete with Sharpie messages from my friends scribbled along any white spaces) and a cream-colored sweater. When I was finished dressing, I appraised myself in the mirror.

“Not too shabby,” I said quietly, letting a ghost of a smile skate across my face.

It seemed getting a good night's sleep was affecting my anti-La Push attitude.

I shrugged and grabbed my bag before trudging down the stairs, making as little noise as possible.

Amazingly, I have always been a morning person. I just love waking up in the morning, while it's quiet and dimly lit. The sky is a wondrous thing, especially during a sunrise. I usually wake up early to see the sun rise. I am always the first one up in my family, another reason I consider myself the only adult.

Our living room looks kind of creepy without the lamp on or light shining through the window. I slowly walked toward the light switch across the room, observing the architecture around me.

It really was a beautiful room. The person who had designed it had been exceptionally talented. The way the roof sloped to meet the edge of the stairway with the edges of two walls jutting out and meeting it was just artistic…

I shook my head slightly, surprised at my thoughts.

And now I'm saying nice things about the house!
Either I might just like it here or I've gone insane.
Personally, I'm rooting for the latter.

It was kind of uncanny how my footsteps hardly made any noise as I padded across the floor. Almost ghostlike…

Bang, bang. And cue the brother.

"Heather! Where are you and are you using the shower?"

"No, Chet!" I replied, and closed the space between me and the light switch, casually flicking it on. As soon as there was light, the room looked much shabbier, but less scary. I probably preferred it that way.

I walked over to the kitchen, set my bag on the table, and grabbed a clean bowl out of the sink. I reached across the short distance from the table to the pantry and swung the door open, revealing my favorite cereal -- Trix.

So what if they're for kids? They're yummy.

I poured the cereal and got up to retrieve milk from the refrigerator.

Somehow, Frank had managed to get all of our furniture here already. That man freaks me out. I'm kind of glad we left New York. But he's the only reason.

I finished my breakfast and went upstairs to brush my teeth and apply a sprinkle of makeup. I'm actually more of a natural-beauty person, so that didn't take much time.

Amazingly, I found my mood getting lighter and lighter, along with the sky, which as time proceeded, was lit more and more by the sun.

As I walked out of my room, glamour-fied to my fullest extent, I began to sing the first verse of Sara Bareilles' "Love Song."

"Head under water,
And you tell me to breathe easy for a while.
The breathing gets harder,
Even I know that.
You made room for me,
But it's too soon to see if I'm happy in your hands.
I’m unusually hard to hold on to.
Blank stares at blank pages,
No easy way to say it,
You mean well, but you make this hard on me..."

As I was about to sing the chorus at the top of my lungs, Janice yelled at me from her room. "Heather! Shut up and go to school before you're late!"

I rolled my eyes and gathered any materials needed for school.
Hmmm... so, mental checklist.

1. Bag? Check.
2. Money? Check.
3. Pencils? Check.
4. Cellular device? …No.
Ahh! That's what I'm missing!

I jogged quickly to my room and unplugged my beautiful lime green iPhone from its charger.

I'll bet you no one in this primitive town has even laid eyes on a cell phone this expensive.

I furrowed my eyebrows in unhappiness as I saw the screensaver, a picture of me and my best friend in New York, Jayme.

I sighed and tossed the phone into my bag.

"Hey Janice, am I supposed to drive The Clunk -- I mean, the truck to school?" I made a face at my slip-up and giggled.

Wait, did I just giggle?

Insanity is definitely what has overcome me.

"Frank left you his car, take it" my mother walked out of her room, clad only in a ratty black robe with pink lace along the bottom.

"Okay, then," I drew my eyebrows up in surprise as I thought of why Frank the freak would leave his car with the likes of yours truly.

I sure hope he has insurance.