It was finally fall. The leaves had just began to change from a healthy green to the tans, oranges and burnt reds of autumn. The sun barely peaked over the trees, filtering through them like water does through a strainer. The temperature had lowered, making it finally bearable to go outside.
I've always loved autumn. It was like the whole world slowed down from the chaos of summer, the chaos of traveling, the chaos of preparing for school, and just gave everyone an opportunity to just stop, and breathe.
A sudden gust of wind whipped across my tan skin as I looked out towards the surrounding trees from the rooftop. I ducked my head deeper into the multicolored scarf that was wrapped around my neck, and the collar of the black jacket that I pulled on moments earlier.
The house my mother and I just moved into gave me easy access to the roof, double sliding doors that lead to a small patio. It's probably the only good thing about this house. Everything else is either decayed or in the process of doing so.
My mother tells me that it was built a little less than 50 years ago. But if you were to ask me, I would've guessed a century.
My dark brown eyes looked down at the large yellow moving truck parked in front of our house. I couldn't hear them, but I could see my mom saying something to the two large, burly movers who's rosy cheeks stretched as they both let out identical laughs.
I laughed when one of them winked at her before he jumped into the cabin of the moving truck.
My mom watched them drive off until they were out of sight further down the road before making her way into the house. I took that as my clue to meet her halfway in the middle room.
I took one last deep breath of the autumn air, letting it cool my lungs and throat. I walked backwards until I felt the edge of the double doors against my fingers. I walked through them, not bothering to shut them, and climbed over the piles of boxes and plastic bags that were scattered across my bedroom floor.
I huffed when the thought of sorting through all of them crossed my mind. I could already tell that it was going to be damn near impossible, but it would have to be done eventually.
I pulled the wooden door that lead into my room open, dust flying from off the ground due to the sudden disturbance in the air, and walked out towards the passage way that had a straight shot to the staircase.
Each step croaked as I climbed down the mahogany wood steps, the dust gathering beneath my fingers as I drug them down the banister.
I saw my mother's shadow before I actually saw her. I went around the corner of a door way that lead into the living room and saw her, just standing in the middle of the chaos. Like and angel in the midst of a battlefield.
Her identical brown eyes caught onto my own. She smiled, showing her naturally white teeth that were previously hidden beneath her rosy pink lips.
I always tell her that she's absolutely beautiful. Her blonde hair is long, and healthy. Her pale cheeks are easily flushed with different shades of pink, while her body shows no sign of giving birth to a daughter. She was tall, and fit, especially for someone who's going into her forties.
I really looked nothing like her. My skin was slightly darker, due to my father. It's safe to say the only things I inherited from her was her eyes, and her smile. Which in themselves, were beautiful.
"So?" She asked, her smile turning into one that sought out approval. She clasped her hands together as she took a few steps towards me. "I know it looks a little bad, but the cobwebs add character, don't you think!"
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head at my mom's humor. "I have to admit, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be."
"Really, Anabella?" she asked, her smile growing larger.
I nodded as I watched her come closer, her blonde hair blowing behind her slightly.
"Thank goodness! I thought you were gonna go look for your dad once you laid eyes on this place. But I promise, we'll work on it until it's our dream home, alright?"
My heart warmed when the word promise left her lips. One thing is for sure about my mother, she will go to the ends of the earth to fulfill her promises, and I loved her so much for that.
Her arms crawled around me, as she pulled me close, resting my head against her shoulder. "Everything will be alright, sweetheart." She whispered in my hair.
I couldn't help but believe her.
She pulled away, her smile still in tact, before looking back at the living room which, at the moment, consisted of hundreds of boxes full of memories.
She looked back at me, her smile now a look of distress. "Before we start on any of this, let's find something to eat." she suggested, her trait of intense procrastination kicking in.
She went over to her purse and pulled out her car keys, placing them into my palms.
"The bags of groceries should still be in the trunk, just pull out what you want to eat tonight. We'll worry about the rest of them tomorrow."
I jokingly let out a frustrated scoff as I walked out the living room towards the front door that has yet to be fully closed all day.
I walked out to the black Volvo that was parked in the driveway. It's the only good thing we've gotten so far from my mother and father's divorce. I'm glad that a car is one less thing that my mom has to worry about, as if it really makes a difference.
The sleek car beeped twice as the trunk popped open. I lifted it up fully, displaying the several bags of grocery that were stationed there. I rummaged through a few of them before deciding on a box beef tortellini pasta.
I could live on the stuff.
I pulled out a jar of sauce also, balancing the box and jar in my right arm, closing the trunk with my free hand.
The jar slipped and fell onto the concrete, rolling down the slight hill of the driveway. I turned around briefly, placing the keys and box of pasta onto the trunk of the car before turning back to chase the runaway jar of pasta sauce.
Instead, however, I faced a tall boy who's body said he was way older than I was, but face said the complete opposite.
He smiled down at me, revealing the dimples that form on the side of his lips.
His lips. They were perfect, to say the least. They were a tan, peach color and full and seemed to be very very soft. Very.
His hair was a perfect blend of blonde and brown. I couldn't describe it if I had to, other than just perfect.
My eyes flickered up to his bright blue ones. They easily resembled the ocean that I used to live beside, and immediately brought a feeling of nostalgia.
Moments past, I'm sure, from when I started looking into his eyes. I couldn't look away though. They were so clear, and welcoming.
"Anyone home?" he chuckled out, bringing myself from out the glance.
I looked down to his hands, feeling awkward from just glaring at him. He held the jar of pasta in his right hand and balanced a pan of food in the other.
"I'm Landon." he introduced, banishing the silence that has plagued us.
"Anabella." I replied out of habit, still staring at his large, tan hands.
I looked up at him, my eyes widening slightly at the thought of him knowing my full name. I began wondering if he had some sort of power, just like the books I always read. My stomach fluttered at the thought.
He smiled bigger, "Your mom met my mother a few days ago. She told me that your mom had a daughter my age and said that I should come introduce myself to you." he explained, shrugging his shoulders in a "here-i-am" fashion.
I nodded slightly, smiling lightly, both at his presence and at the thought of him having powers. Vampires and werewolves don't exist, stupid Anabella.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Landon. Is that for us, or do you always walk around with pans of food?" I asked, gesturing towards his left hand.
"Oh this," he said, raising his left hand slightly. "I just walk around with them, it's just a hobby of mine."
I nodded my head as if I was creeped out by his hobby.
We both let out a laugh a few moments later, before he handed me the pan and sauce. I took them happily, looking him straight in the eyes.
"Think of it as a little welcome gift." he said, placing the objects fully into my hands. Our hands touched lightly, but felt like a lightning bolt. I pulled my hands back once they were firmly in my hands.
"Thank you." I responded, a smile forming on my lips.
He smiled back before raising his hand for a wave. "I hope you enjoy it." he said, referring to the pan of food.
I looked down at it thinking of a response, but by the time I looked up he had already began to walk off.
"Thank you again!" I called after him. He looked back at me, waving his hand once again.
I stood there until he disappeared from sight.
The warmth of pan radiated through my fingertips, warming my entire body. I looked back down towards the pan.
It was full of what seemed to be homemade beef tortellini.
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*Cover photo is of me and was edited by me*