Brooke had been staring out the window of her Uncle's sixty nine Volkswagen for a little oer ten minutes, imagining her new school, and how she could live here, in Alaska. Leaving Australia where she had lived at a boarding school, for most of her junior high life had been hard. Especially since she was leaving Sam. The boy she loved so much. It was at this end of there life together that she had realized how much she needed him. But now, she lived in America. With her Uncle.
"it was awkward enough," she thought to herself "for meeting her own uncle, on her mother's side for the first time"
She wondered if something had happened. If there were some big news about to be revealed.
It was just so random. The way he called up her school letting them know, that he'd have custody now.
According to her grandmother, who had placed her in this school, it had been her parents wish to keep her there.
That was the other thing. She had never met her parents. They died in a horrible accident when a boat sank, when she was only two. So she had very little memory of them. She remembered there faces, her mother was distinctivly beautiful, woman, hauntingly beautiful. Her eyes were a blue, and she remembered how they changed from a murky almost blue brown, or a clear tropical ocean color. He hair was brown and dripped like candle wax over her shoulders.
Her father was hideous in comparison. He was obviously plain. His mother a goddess, his father merely a servent to her.
She was starteled out of her vivid imagination by, the sound of the car going downa rocky driveway. Immediately a loud barking came from behind the house, and a mix breed, of what looked like bordercolie and german sheperd appeared, and barked dilegently tilting his head back at the car. He wagged his tail swiftly.
"wer'e here." Brooke's uncle aid lowly, looking away as he said it.
"I'll show you the place. Come on." he said sheepishly.
The house was small and had two stories. It was all brick with brown trim and a large screened in porch. Inside it was furnished mostly, with little decor on the walls. The furniture was mix-matched. The kitchen had wood paneling and many pans on the counter. It was extreemly messy. "he's lucky im living here."
Brooke thought to herself, "I'm such a neat freak."
"follow me, I'll show you your room."
They went up the creaky stairs, that were incredibly swollen and small, the house was suffocating them. They reached the hall. The wall paper peeled at the top and was tattered and white. There were darkened circles on the walls where picture frames had once been. They passed five doors in the hall and at the end they came to the one brown door in the hall, her uncle turned the knob and Brooke peered into the room, a little frightened to open it and step into it, for an odd reason. It was this escalating pain of remorse that drowned her body as she stepped into it. Even her uncle scowled as though it smelled bad.
It was obvious, that he had made a big effort to make it modern and welcoming. It was the only room with painted walls and a new, unstained white rug. There was a large window that could be unlatched and opened so Brooke may sit on the roof. and against the wall, under it was a double bed, made up. It had two thick quilts on it and a couple fluffy fat pillows. On the walls were many photos of mexican slums, taken by her uncle the photographer. a book shelf had only two books on it. A blank worn looking book, and a dictionary. But on the bottom was a few copies of teen vogue. despite the nonchalant tone, it was really to much.
Her uncle searched her face for a signal. A sign. An emotion. She was staring at the magazines.
"i got a subscription, he urged not taking his eyes of her face, still looking."
"its like he got it because it said the word, 'teen' in it, so I must like it." she thought to herself.
But instead of being rude, she smiled half heartedly for the effort, and said "thank you, its perfect."
She looked around more, in the corner was a small roll top desk, with a box underneath with a typewriter leaned dramatically in it, like trash. She winced a it.
On the desk the thing had been replaced by a dell laptop. and next to it a vase of wild flowers.
A large over the top dresser and mirror, was in the alcove by the closet. It was alb-orate and very french looking. She walked carefully into the closet. There was remaining wall paper here..
She puled the string to turn on a single bulb, and saw tiled floor, and a few scattered wire hangers. Also in a box was a rotary phone. She looked longingly after it. There was some faint memory about it she could not figure out. This would bother her for days.
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