Hide & Seek

I was used to moving. I had been going from house to house to house all seventeen years of my life. My mom was a writer. She always needed somewhere new to write a book. And so, everytime she got a new idea, we packed up and left. I have friends all over the world because of that. I know a good number of languages just because.

Arabic, by far, was the hardest. Egypt, by far, was the hottest. Russian is my favorite, Moscow was the coldest.

The shuttle ride from Denver to the airport in Seattle took a mere hour, if even that. Mom and I were ushered off the supersonic jet and went to grab out bags. Everything had been sent over to the house, but there were still some things that we had to bring with us. Plus, I felt like bringing my most valuable items with me personally.

I wasn't one of those kids that whined about moving all over the place. It was a chance to get something new. I was always one for change.

Mom and I jumped into a taxi, the sleek yellow paint dripping from what must have been a quick rainstorm.

"Where to, lady?" Taxi cab drivers were the same everywhere - in a hurry, and always wanting to rip someone off.

Mom told the guy the address, and we were soon speeding down a track of nothing but other cars. The guy was going only eighty miles per hour - fairly slow compared to the one - twenty that they did in Germany and France.

Seattle, Washington was nothing but a blur gray and blue behind us as we grew closer and closer to Forks. The small town that has been around since 1945. It was July 29th, 2108.

Two hours passed.

I sat in the taxi, watching as all the other cars flashed by. I could see blurs of green and brown - trees. The sky was gray; after all, this was the rainiest state in the United States. All fifty-two of them.

"Cop, we're here." I look away from the sea of greens and browns and back at my mother. She had the door opened and motioning for me to get out. I slid across the cheap leather, finally stepping into the soil that I would be in for the next year.

I could just faintly hear the cab driver muttering about getting mud all over his new shoes. I could care less about my shoes. I was wearing an old pair of sandals anyways.

Mom paid the driver as I pulled out bags up the stairs and onto the wide, white-paint-peeling veranda. The curtains were drawn over the windows, so I couldn't take a peek inside. this was my first time ever near the house. Mom had been the one to pick it out. This was the first time I'd ever even seen the house.

The taxi wheels grounded against the gravel driveway, and soon it was just mom and me and the house.

She always wanted to be dramatic when we got a new house, so I let her have her few minutes of excitement. The door opened, and I entered a whole new world.

The house was nothing like I'd seen in our old ones.

There were no fancy little centimeter-thick flat screen TVs, or mounted in the wall-control pads, or anything of this century. It was so... old looking. It felt like I had entered a whole new world.

"Puts the bags down, I want to show you the house!"

I did as mom said and followed her. The whole house was already furnished. She told me that the real-estate agent had said that the people who had lived here (over a hundred years ago!) had left everything. She said that she didn't want anything to go to waste (just in case they came back for their things) and left everything as it was.

White sheets covered everything, trying to keep dust and the sun away.

There were foot prints in the wooden floors from where we had stepped. The dust was that thick.

Mom showed me the first floor, then the second floor, then the third floor. There was room after room after room. Everyone of them was filled with things.

I felt like I had just walked right into someone's house - and they were still living here.

"So, what do you think?" Mom asked, obviously happy with herself.

I merely smiled at her. "Why buy so many rooms?"

Mom only laughed and started walking back downstairs. "The house was just too beautiful to say no to!"

And then I was left alone. It was silent. I couldn't even hear mom downstairs.

It was peaceful.

I was almost tempted to yell for mom which one was my room, but I knew she would let me pick.

I went through all the rooms again, each one completely different from the next.

The first one I came to looked almost like a child's room. The walls were a pale pink, with matching peaches and yellows. Toys were scattered in the floor, and the bed was still unmade. The people who lived here had obviously been in a huge hurry to get out.

One thing really caught my eye - it was a photograph.

It was hanging on the wall just above the head of the bed. The frame was just a simple black frame, but the picture was what got me.

It had to be of a family, the family that lived here. They were beyond beautiful. I could see who the little girl must have been. She was in the arms of a very tall and tan, burly man. They were all smiling; every one of them looked like they were in love.

I looked away from the picture and back at the rest of the walls. They were covered in little drawings, the paper was yellowing.

On a waist-high dresser was another set of photographs. Each one had the little girl in them. Sitting in the middle of them all was a small stuffed animal; a rusty colored wolf. I smiled and walked out of the room. Hopefully mom didn't think I would be getting pregnant anytime soon.

The other beside it seemed to be in a much more modern looking time frame.

The bed (or what I presumed to be the bed) was shaped almost like a couch, an off-white color. Two of the walls were nothing but large panes of glass, looking out for the large forest behind the house. I turned to look at the other wall. It was nothing but CD after CD after CD of music. It was obviously all from a hundred years ago and farther back. I was tempted to take out one and pop it into the player that also sat on the shelf. I didn't, though. I just turned away and walked out to the others.

I couldn't take that room.

Both of those rooms were huge (obviously because they also had connecting bathrooms that were almost the same size) and then the next room on the floor was at the end of the house.

It took up that whole half of the house.

It was obviously a study of some sort. Every wall had some kind of book shelf on it, but the rest of the space was taken up by old paintings, a fireplace, and a desk in the middle of the room. There were two chairs in front of the fire place. Connected to it (only being separated by a wall and then a large opening for people to walk through) was another bedroom. It was beautiful. The bed was very medieval looking, and the sheets looked almost like gold.

I couldn't take this room either.

I travelled upstairs to the other rooms. One had a mixture of sports and fashion. The bed had a four post canopy, with dark and light blue sheets and bedding. There were a few framed autographs, a few dressers and a large vanity that still had jewelry lying on the wood. Everything was covered in dust.

The last room at the top instantly gripped at my heart. This was the one.

There was a ceiling to floor bookshelf, full of books that I had never heard of. The furniture seemed very southerner looking, when I observed and compared it to my homes in Texas and Georgia. The bed was also a four post canopy, but the colors were more of gray, black and purple themed than anything else. I actually felt like I should have gone in.

And I did.

I took a closer look, trying my best not to get dust everywhere. The carpet was a dark eggplant color, but had a gray tint due to the dust. I opened the closest. It was just rows upon rows of clothing. I could have easily sold all of the vintage looking things. But I wouldn't.

I closed the closest door, putting the option of trying on some things to wear once school was closer to starting.

"Cop!" I heard mom yell for me. "Copper! Come and get your things!" I hurried out of the room, my room, and down the stairs. She was already unpacking a few boxes, looking for the important things that we would need.

My shoes clicked against the wood flooring. Mom looked up, a large grin on her face.

"Have you found your room?" I nodded, smiling back. "Which one?"

"The one on the top floor with the old-fashion looking bed and furniture. The closest is still full of clothes from when the owners lived here!" Mom's brow furrowed.

"You mean the one with the black and purple bed?" I nodded. "When I was first showed the house, they couldn’t get the door opened. Did you force it?"

I shook my head. "No, it opened up like any other door in the house."

"Amazing..." she breathed out, her hands finding their way to her hips. "They've been trying for the past hundred years to get that door opened. None of the construction people could force it open with any of the modern technology." I blinked and cocked my head. "Yet you were able to just open it up like nothing..."

Moms shook her head, obviously pushing thoughts away, and then went back to unpacking.

I took one of the hover carts from the door and packed some of my boxes on it. This was my new home.

Six-fifty-four, east Division Street, Forks, Washington - the large white house a few miles out of Forks in the forest.

Hi. My name is Copper Ophelia Acres. I'm seventeen years old, and daughter of the famous author Blakely Acres. Yes, she's the one that wrote the Dusk to Dawn series. She's writing her new book right now.

It's called Hide and Seek.