In Her Eyes

I gave my parents one last goodbye hug and then got into the cab. My throat was thick as I drove away from the only place I have ever called home.
I hate having to leave my family’s cozy little apartment, where I lived with my mother and father and our little Jack Russell, Buster. My parents got me Buster for my twelve birthday. After four years we still lived in the same apartment in the same city. The big city. New York. But my parents and I have decided that I’m going stay with my great aunt Maria in Forks for a little while.
I know my parents love me, but ever since my brother disappeared I haven’t been the same. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t let anybody in. My aunt went through the same pain that I am going through. She lost her sister when she was in her mid-teens as well.
From the outside I was your average sixteen year old. Still going through the awkward phase of figuring out whom I want to become, my hair is layered and a deep chestnut brown that reached almost to my waist. I have never died my hair because I always liked the natural tone it had. I am very pale; a lot of people think I am sick all the time, because of my ghostly skin and the big bags that lay under my eyes. My eyes used to be bright blue, filled with passion and joy but ever since he left they look empty and pained. I have a figure girls starve themselves for, not sure how though, I am really more of a stay in bed all day and avoid as much exercise as possible girl.

“Beth,” my mother said to me one night “Your dad and I know that you are struggling very much with, with well your brother and we honestly don’t know how to help you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “We have done everything we can do, doctors, therapy, you’ve been homeschooled. Nothing seems to work.” My father chimed in not wanting to see my mother cry. “We talked to your great aunt Maria and she has agreed to let you stay there for a while, we really think it will help. She will understand better.” My mother said sobbing now. I wasn’t really surprized when my parents brought this up. I really did need the help and if Aunt Maria was my way to being normal then I was all for it.

When my flight landed in Seattle, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my aunt. Last time I saw her I was six and she was drunk. Not the best memory, but she can help me and that’s what I need, help. Losing a sibling is not something most people can understand. It’s different, harder to accept. Someone who you could talk to about anything, who would keep secrets from your parents. My brother, Matthew Jones, eighteen years old was one of my closest friends. He was always there for me.
It has been twelve months and seventeen days since the last time I’ve seen him. He was acting weird. He kept to himself, he was quieter and never home. Matt was always loud and expressing his opinion about everything to everyone, and at the end of the day he was always the first one to shut his door and head to bed.
“Beth,” he called from a cab his deep blue eyes filled with fear. “I’m not sure when I am going to be home, so please tell mom and dad I have always loved them and I always will.” A tear rolled down his cheek. I felt my heart drop into my stomach, why is he telling me this I thought, too afraid to ask. “And no matter what happens, Beth you will always be my sister, my baby sister. I love you.” He kissed me on the cheek and drove off into the crowded streets of New York. That was the last time I saw him.
The Seattle airport was very quiet compared to New York. It didn’t take me long to find Maria. She stood by herself, she hasn’t really changed that much since the last time I saw her. She is short and old, her face covered in wrinkles. Her eyes a dark brown and lonely, filled with regret and sadness. She walked over to me with a slight limp. I was afraid she might fall over, so I quickly walked over to her.
“Elizabeth!” she said her face brightening up when she saw me. “I am so glad you have come to stay with me. I was getting lonely up here by myself.” She smiled and pulled me in for a hug.
For such an old, little lady she sure was strong. The hug was quick and awkward.
“Hi Aunt Maria, please call me Beth.” I said as soon as she released my body from her hands.
“Hello, Beth! My, my have you ever grown since the last time I have seen you. Oh, you are going to love Forks, it has so many great people.” She smiled. Her voice didn’t match her face. It was high pitched and full of joy. It didn’t match her sad eyes. “And Beth, if you ever called me Aunt Maria again I might shoot you”- she winked “it makes me feel so old!” she laughed and then lead me to her car.
Maria was not the same Maria I remembered. The old Maria was a cranky, sad lady who drank too much. This Maria was nice and welcoming and so far, sober. On the car ride home she asked me a lot about New York. She has never lived anywhere outside Forks, in fact she still lives in the same house that she lived in when she was a kid. She told me about the high school I would be attending. It sounded pretty small but she assured me I would fit right in.
“Beth, I know leaving New York and your parents to come live with great aunt who you haven’t seen since you were six, that lives in a small rainy town, must be really hard. But I want you to know that I really think I can help you.”
That was the last time we talked for the rest of the drive.
We arrived at her house, and for some reason I recognized it, although I couldn’t place where I had seen it before.
Maria helped me with my bags. I only had a few, because my dad insisted we mail most of my belongings here before I arrived. Her house wasn’t very big, but it seemed to suit her well. The house was two stories high, with no basement. The outside is painted white and really needed a touch up. The porch was big. It reached from one end of the house to the other. There was one wicker swing with an old, musty cushion, placed towards the right end of the porch.
“It’s not much,” she sighed “but it is home.”
She led me to my room.
“I wasn’t sure what you would like, but I asked the girl a few doors down I believe she is just a few years younger than you, and she said that you would like it.” She opened the door to my room.
I gasped. It was perfect. The windows were huge. In New York I always wanted my parents to buy a new apartment with big windows and a view of the skyline, and although it wasn’t the Empire State Building, it sure was nice. Maria’s house backed on to a forest, with trees that must be more than a hundred years old, and I think I got the best view of it. The walls were painted a light purple and everything fitted me very well. There was one small mirror hanging above an old, white dresser. The bed side tables matched perfectly. The head board of the bed was iron rod with a homemade quilt that matched the walls. The room was simple and empty and just the way I liked it.
“Oh, my,” I didn’t know how to thank her “Maria, I-I-I love it! It’s amazing, thank you!” I gave her a hug. It obviously made her uncomfortable, so as soon as I let go she nodded and headed down the hall to what I assumed was her bedroom.
I stared to unpack my things when a lump formed in my throat and tears streaked my face. As much as I wanted to accept being in Forks and living with Maria it was hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about my parents and how much I have let them down. First my brother disappearing and now I have left them because I couldn’t deal with it. It wasn’t fair to them. What did they do?
I fell asleep without touring the rest of the house. I couldn’t face Maria with red, wet eyes and a tired raspy voice. She didn’t need to see me like this. No one did.