The trees blurred together into a mass of green and brown as I watched them from the view of my family's car. It was a pretty sight, a garbled mess of two very contrasting colors. As the tree line grew thicker the green blurred to be more vibrant and darker. More lively, per se. The brown turned more noticeable as the shades of it all deepen in both depth and color.

All of this. Through a window.

I hated it.

The sight was lovely, don't get me wrong. But it meant that I was moving farther and farther away from my home town. Sure, I wasn't born there, but it was a place where I lived out most of my terribly short life. It was home to me. A place where memories were made and where memories came to die. Forgotten forever by my highly functioning brain. That was fine thought. It was bound to happen. This on the other hand, was not. This could be avoided, not that I could do anything about it, it was inevitable at this point. Moving to a new town, a small one at that. I'm not implying that I'm from the big city. My city was medium at best. It was no big city, but a small town was well...too small. This new place, ugh, I can't even recall its name. It didn't matter, the only thing that really did was that I; no we, had to live in this town for God knows how long.


I shouldn't be so selfish though, I know that. Dad got a better job here and the house market around here is much cheaper. But still, I should have the right to complain about it in my own head. Gotta leave all my friends (not that I had many to begin with), I left my school mid-1st quarter, and I basically left anything that was familiar to me.


My father was driving as my mother slept soundly. The road was smooth as it was endless, a concoction of gravel and cement. My eye trailed down below, where black tar shot by. So many things left behind in the dust, some more valuable than others. This was happening, and I kept my mouth shut. I had to, and I was going to anyway. I was just a kid, my parents did what they had and wanted to do. I shouldn't act like some teen with a mid-life crisis. Yet I still felt anger swell up in me. I couldn't help it; it was unbearable. Bound to happen, but I knew eventually I'd get used to it. That was something else I hated. Why did people do that? There's a place or something they've been exposed to all or most of their life, and then something comes along and changes that. And after a shorter time than it should be, they're suddenly all too familiar with it. They begin to forget what the other one was like. It merely becomes a faint memory that they once knew. I just...I just don't understand why people do that. Or how? Do we really choose too? Or is it something that has to happen? I don't know, and I don't think I'll ever really know...

It's just...too far for me.

Goodbye old life. Hello new town.

I don't even know you and I already seem to hate you.

*I think a few people who will misunderstand that, it's sarcasm.

Edit: Okay, just to say, I wrote this chapter on 5/6/2017. I still have an unfinished chapter 1 sitting there. I will finish this thing eventually. Anyway, I never crossposted this story outside of Quotev, since the person who requested this story (They won a free request.) was on there. I just thought maybe I should post this story on here, AO3, and Wattpad for the heck of it. I have lots of story notes for this story and some artwork, so stay tuned!

The only piece of art I have actually posted yet is on my deviantArt (same username as here) but one day I will post the other characters refs.