We're Ghosts in a Hail of Bullets

Days passed and grew shorter. Streetlights would turn on at around eight. It's a reasonable time but back in Vermont they would turn on at six because the sun was already setting by then. Halloween was approaching on us. My parents scrambled around town for decorations as well as new furniture and where to sell our old stuff. The Realtor who sold us the house told them to put it up online, but my parents have no sense of new technology. So in my alone time I would be posting up eBay auctions for them. I can understand selling our old lamps, candy bowls, and end tables but how are they going to ship a whole couch and chair set? I left that to them. Mom and Dad said I would receive twenty five percent of our total earnings so that was nice. I had no idea what I would spend it on. I haven't found the local mall yet or movie theater and so far I have no friends. The only locals I know are Moira, whose probably eighty-something, and Tate who never comes out of his house unless it's to creep around my backyard. He was nice company though when Mom and Dad would leave to have an adventure. I haven't seen him in a few days though. I've been talking to Moira more. She's a very sweet woman and she was beginning to grow on me. The stories she told of tragedies in this house would always spark my interests. She was very descriptive and her point of view was always of a caring, old friend instead of the help.
I sat with her in the kitchen around two o'clock in the afternoon. She made me a cup of English Toffee coffee. My new favorite since moving here. I usually don't drink coffee because the taste was always too strong for me, but the coffee that Moira made tasted like sweets. The English Toffee that she would brew tasted like smores. She drank a small cup of tea. It seemed to be her drink of choice.

"School starts soon," she began, sipping from her cup.

"Yeah. I don't want to walk in as the new kid," I lied. I felt that being the new kid was a terrifyingly exciting experience. After knowing the same people for almost sixteen years, I needed a change. Back at my old school we all greeted the new kids like long friends anyway. I expected the same out of this place but I thought that my positive attitude would be a bit questionable. In every show I've seen or expression on a new students face, no one wants to be the new kid.

"We all have to at some point," Moira cheered in a perky way. She gave me a nice, wrinkled smile. After getting to know her better and being around her for the past five days I've gotten use to her bad eye and now I look more to her good eye. She had pretty eyes for someone so old. It shined like a star. Such a pity that the other one had to go to waste like that.

I twirled my spoon around in my coffee, twisting my lips, and biting at my inner cheek. "I want to make sure that they like me," I lied once again. I didn't care if kids liked me or not. I was content in my own world.

"Oh," she smiled once more, "You're a kind person. You're quiet, but you're kind. They'll break through your shell and learn to like you,"

"What do you mean learn to like me?" I asked, "If I'm such a nice person why can't they like me right away?"

Moira took a moment to drink her tea then sighed, thinking of a way to explain the harsh views of high school to a girl whose hardly ever been out of her comfort zone and found school to be a safe place. "Children here aren't like the children in Vermont. I can tell just by talking to you. You are a very humble and sweet girl with a good heart and strong shell. Girls here are sour and spoiled. Their lives revolve around make-up, parties, boys, shopping, and materialistic things that turn them into wrathful little she devils. They'll try to break you; stomp on your pride and strength, but if I know you like I think I do then I know that you'll rise about them. You're a good girl, Anna," she explained. In a way she blew my mind causing me to mentally step back and breathe. I wasn't expecting a long rant of how horrible teenage girls were. I was expecting a long explanation of what peer pressure is and how to avoid it. But I was given what I was dealt and so I looked into my untouched coffee, stirring and stirring. I was thinking of a reply as well as mulling over what she had just told me. I didn't notice that she had already left until she called my name from the living room.
"Do you mind if I clean in your room? I have Halloween off so it won't get done until Tuesday," She called. Even when she yelled her voice was calm and monotoned.

"Go a head," I shouted back. Compared to hers my voice was sharp and aching. I liked having Moira around because she kept me company when my parents were gone. She had Fridays and Saturdays off so those would be boring but by then I figured that I would have some small friends from school. I start school on Halloween. How nice. It was my favorite holiday aside from my birthday. I would have to dress up in some Gothic type of clothes and show everyone the meaning of the day. I don't mind if my first impression wasn't the best as long as I liked it. But that was a day away. I had time to think it over. Right now I had to finish this coffee and get dressed so I could be a productive member of society. My parents were gone again. After Halloween they should be around more often. I was beginning to believe that they abandoned me for shopping, but I knew better. Half the time they went out they would come home empty handed.

"Hey, Moira!" I called. I looked up to see the counter was empty. Mom put the basket of Constance's muffins there for us to eat.

"Yes?" she shouted back from the living room.

"What happened to the muffins Constance made us?" as I drank the rest of my coffee, Moira entered the room.

"I threw those out,"

"Why? They looked really good," I said in all honesty. I really wanted one.

Moira sighed, "She spits in pastries. Don't ever take anything from her. She's a vile old cow," and with that she went back to cleaning. I didn't want to push her any further. That was warning enough.