The summer sun blared down on me, my tanned skin was slick with sweat as dribbled the ball up and down the court. Strands of my auburn hair stuck to my face, I flicked them out of my eyes with my free hand. The pounding of the ball echoed along the concrete, followed in time by the slapping of my Nikes. My breathing was coming in quick short pants and my side flared in pain, I pushed the pain aside and drove hard down the court. Raising the ball, I let it fly, the ball slipped through the net with a soft 'swoosh'. I stumbled to the cool grass that outlined the court and watched as the ball lazily bounced to a final roll.

The park was empty; the sun was falling beyond the horizon, a solemn orange globe of light making way for the illuminated moon. I rubbed a hand over my face, wiping the sweat on my black baggy shorts and stood. I stretched my aching muscles, cracked my knuckles, and stopped to pick up my ball before I took off in a jog towards home. It wasn't a good idea to be walking around this part of the neighborhood at night, I needed to pack, I was leaving today.

My family and I lived on the east side of Cannum City, Illinois, known for its multiple gangs and routine murders; but it was all we could afford. I didn't complain, they did the best they could and I was still alive. My mother and father were high school sweethearts; that was until she got pregnant with me. At 19, she had me; my father quoted his love, doted upon her, and seemed to love me as well. I soon found out a few months ago that it was all a cover story; I knew my father was a sneaking conniving slive; he sometimes would not come home at night or leave in the early morning hours. I knew something was up, so I followed him one night; I became quite good at investigating and quiet pursuit at a young age. You had to keep your wits about you in a place like this.

I followed him; I kept a safe distance as not to be spotted. He left the east side and drove a few hours north. I had become slightly nervous but that quickly dispelled at what I had found. My father, the man who told me he loved me walked casually up the steps of a three story old Victorian home. As quickly as I could I had sprinted into the bushes lining the house and peered in through a window. He had taken off his coat and was placing it on a rack as a little girl with blonde pigtails came running in, he scooped her up and kissed her on the forehead. My chest had clenched painfully, but I kept my mouth shut. A woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and an apron slung around her neck swooped into the room, placing a kiss on his cheek. He smiled down at her and kissed her deeply.

I swore softly and clenched my fists, swallowing my anger, I slipped out from behind the bushes sneaked onto the porch rang to doorbell and leapt down the stairs. I stood at the end of drive, near the road, leaning against my truck and waited hands shoved into my pockets. My dad opened the door, he looked around and his eyes landed on me. Shock slipped over his face, his mouth dropped open. I shook my head and glared, kicking off the side of the truck I slipped into.

My dad came running down the drive, arms waving madly, "Lily wait!" I flipped him off in the rearview mirror and tore off down the road.

That evening I had sat my mother down at the worn kitchen table; dark circles were painted under her cerulean eyes, here dark brown hair limp around her shoulders. I held her smooth hands in mine and told her what I had seen. She shook her head madly, tears pouring from her eyes; she wrenched her hands from mine and slapped me. I sat back stunned, my lips thinned, she glared down at me and told me that she was sending me to my grandmothers in Colorado, that she had, had enough of my cheek. She shoved a plane ticket into my hand and ran out of the room, I had sat there at the table staring down at the plane ticket; wondering where I went wrong. Tears had pricked the corner of my eyes but I forced them back, there was nothing I could do now; it was her own fault for not believing me.

I was packing a duffel bag full of what little clothes I had, zipping it up; my eyes caught the picture frame resting on my bedside table. It was one of my mum and me; her arms were looped around my neck, my toothy grin as I smiled up at the camera. With a deep sigh, I took the picture out of the frame, folded it, and slipped into the back pocket of my jeans. I heaved my bag over my shoulder and gave my room one last look before flipping off the lights.

My mother stood next to my beat up Chevy pick-up, looking plain in jeans and shirt. I gave her a solemn look and tossed my bag into the back.

"This is for your own good Lily, you are too much for me to handle. And those lies about your father, where do you come up with those? Your grandmother will certainly straighten you out." Her voice was sharp and it stung as her words bit into me.

"They weren't lies mum." I bit out softly, as I jumped into the passenger seat.

"Don't back talk me; this is what I'm talking about. Just say yes ma'am, no ma'am. You understand me?" I clenched my jaw.

"Yes ma'am" I sneered, snapping my mouth shut for the remainder of the trip to the airport.

As she pulled up to the busy let off area of the airport she turned to me, "now when you learn some manners and learn not to tell such lies, you can come back, until then, I don't want to hear from you." I swallowed the lump that had built in my throat.

Slamming the door shut behind me, I lugged my bag out the back, and took off for my terminal. Time flew by and soon I was sitting in my seat, head leaning against the window. An old woman next to me was knitting and jabbering on about her fifty grandchildren; I had long since given up listening, but nodded politely when needed. Soon the sparce clouds dissipated revealing the Rocky Mountains below and the wide expanse of plain lands. As the plane landed, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for my new life.

The airport was filled to the brim, soldiers on leave hugging their loved ones, elderly people awaiting their luggage; the chaotic pandemonium put me at ease, I thrived in chaos. I hauled my bag over my shoulder and shifted from foot to foot looking for my grandmother.

"Lily dear over here!!" my grandmother's elegant voice called from the midst of a crowd of tourists in Hawaiian shirts, I scoffed, didn't they know this wasn't California.

I laughed when I saw my grandma, for having an elegant voice she was anything but. Her chocolate brown hair was threaded with silver and in a long braid over her right shoulder. A worn pair of jeans encased her legs; brown hiking boots adorned her small feet.

"Hey grandma, good to see you." I wrapped my arms around her, relishing in the familiarity.

Her browned skin was almost black against my pale arms, "its good to see you dear, how's your mother?"

I looked pointedly at her the ran a hand through my ponytail, "same as always, in deep denial that her once loving husband is a piece of pond scum; but we all can't be as smart as me now can we?" I grinned toothily.

She slapped my shoulder and grabbed my bag, "gramps is in the Jeep, let's get going we need to stop at the store to stock up." I nodded and jerked my bag back from her.

"I can handle this, it's just one bag" she cupped my chin and kissed my forehead, throwing an arm around my shoulders we left the airport.

My grandparent's car was not what you expected from an elderly coupleā€¦.well not so elderly but the same. A giant yellow jeep was jacked up on mountainous wheels. People walked by slack jawed at the immense vehicle. I smiled softly to myself.

I tossed my back up into the back, hoisted myself up and kissed my grandpa on his weathered cheek. "Hey gramps, what's happenin?" He banged a rhythm on the wheel.

"Well short stuff we've got to get some munchies, then how bout we go ATVing?" I nodded enthusiastically.

"Sounds great, let's get a move on I'm rapidly aging here." I leaned back in my seat and watched the wide open scenery pass by, thinking quietly to myself.