Shattered Appearances ✓

t w o: Fifty Shades Of Water Balloons

My father and I haven't interacted much over the years, albeit a few phone calls or text messages. This was the first time we've seen each other face to face since I moved back to Maryland. He had more grey hairs than before and I could assume that he's been taking on more cases. The drive over was fairly awkward so to prevent him from speaking to me, I put on a pair of earbuds and listened to music. It worked pretty well.

It was already midnight before we finally arrived. The red gardenias lined the garden for the summer months. The victorian red brick home was a stark contrast to all the other homes in the block which were made of wood. I was about to knock on the maple door when he stopped me.

"I have the keys. They're probably sleeping by now. I don't want to wake them up."

I made an indifferent expression and motioned my arms to the door so he could open it. When we stepped inside, the house was just as gorgeous as it was on the outside. Just as I remembered, pictures lined the walls as well as various paintings. I found a picture of me when I was twelve on the mantel but considering that there wasn't a speck of dust to be found while the others were dirty, I assumed that it was brand new.

Being in this house released bittersweet memories inside me, some more bitter than sweet.

"Go to sleep Zoe. We can unpack in the morning. Your room is on the first left in the second floor. I think you remember where it is."

I nodded and let him go up the stairs. Staying behind, I sat on the couch and let my suitcase drop to the floor. Even in the dark, I could see the faint outline of all the furniture. Taking out my phone, I texted Clary that I arrived. She sent me a message a few seconds later telling me good luck and that everything will be okay. Like I believed that.

I went into the kitchen and started warming up a glass of milk. I usually couldn't sleep without it and today wasn't an exception. Hearing tiny footsteps coming from the stairs, the lights suddenly turned on and I came face to face with Giselle, my little sister.

Also known as the brat of the house.

I just kept staring at her because I wasn't the one who was going to start conversation. Apparently she thought the same thing too because we ended up not speaking for about five minutes. Eventually she got bored and spoke first.

"Can you stop making noise? Some of us are trying to sleep." I held my breath and pinched my temples. I was not going to argue with an eleven-year-old at one in the morning.

"Hello to you too, Giselle. It's nice to see you again." I deadpanned.

"We've met before?" She seemed genuinely confused and I wasn't sure if she was a really good actor or completely forgot about me all together.

"No. We never met. I'm just a stranger staying here for a year. Go to bed." I left my cup of milk on the counter and headed up to my room. Turning on the lights, my eyes were blinded by pink. I groaned as I stepped further into my room. Most of my band posters were still on the wall although I couldn't possibly imagine why they would paint the walls a different color. Deciding that darkness was better than seeing the dreaded color, I turned of the lights and went to bed.

~*~

Lunch in the Newman household was always unpleasant and awkward at it's best. No one wanted to sit together and so they all ate their food as fast as they can. As I sat down in my usual chair I noticed that almost all conversation stopped. Monica, my stepmother, continued to eat her mashed potatoes without sparing a glance at me.

"Good afternoon Zoey." My dad said after he finished swallowing his food. I woke up late which explains why I was still in my pajamas. To me it was still morning.