My name is Clary. My real name is Clarice but I hate that name. It sounds like some old fashioned name. My family and I just moved to a new town Rockwell Heights. Its a nice place but its quiet. I miss all my friends and now I live on the other side of the country from them. I hate the fact that my step dad made me move out here. But I didn't have much choice, I mean a 16 year old has no say in whatever happens.
My mom recently remarried. When I was 9 my mom and dad divorced. That was right after my dad was arrested for assault. My dad was a physical guy and would through my mom and I around a lot. Eventually my mom called the cops and he got arrested. So I never really knew or liked my dad. Growing up after that wasn't like a normal kid's life. While other kids would go home after school and have their mom or dad waiting for them, I would go home to an empty house. My mom spent all of her time working, and when she wasn't working she was usually drunk. So I learned how to fend for myself at a young age.
After a few years of my mom not really being there, she decided that she needed to get her life in order so she started going to some alcoholic support group which is where she met Andy who is now my step dad. Andy is good for my mom. He's a nice guy and a total pushover I could ask him for almost anything and he'd give it to me without question.
But for some reason Andy thinks that he needed to move my mom and I away from our home in California. Now we live in New York, and not the fun part of New York. Its some small town in like the middle of nowhere. But it's like surrounded in trees so its really pretty.
I sat in my new room unpacking. My room was really big; there was a large queen sized bed, a dresser and desk, and there was still lots of room. When I was done unpacking I walked downstairs and put the empty boxes in the front area where a pile of unused boxes lay. I walked back upstairs and locked my door. I sat down on my new bed and looked around. Now what? I thought. I was already bored. Then I had an idea.
I dug through my desk and pulled out my black glass pipe that I had hidden. Then I went to the dresser and pulled out a small pill bottle. I grabbed a backpack and threw the pipe and pill bottle into the bag. I check my pocket to make sure I had my lighter and then I walked downstairs. I walked into the kitchen where my mom was putting away dishes.
"I'm going out to explore," I told her as I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and ran out the back door.
I walked right into the woods and started to look for a good place to toke. I walked for about 10 minutes before I found a tall tree that I could easily climb. This was a good spot. I jumped up and grabbed onto a branch that was above my head and then pulled myself up on the branch. Then I climbed up a few more feet and then sat down on a large wide branch. I pulled out my pipe and pill bottle and opened the bottle. Inside sat about 2grams of weed. I took out a little bit and filled the bowel of the pipe then I lit it.
By the time I was done with the bowel I was feeling pretty dizzy. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to smoke in a tree. I hit my pipe against the tree and let the remaining flecks fall out then I put the rest of the weed and the pipe back in my bag and jumped out of the tree. It was maybe about a 10 foot drop but I didn't care. I landed on the ground and landed hard on the ground. I fell over and just laid there for a minute. Then a hand appeared above me.
"Need help?" a voice said. I sat up and saw a boy my age standing above me. He had long dirty blonde hair and green eyes.
"Um no," I said as I stood up.
"Are you sure? You landed pretty hard," he said.
"I'm fine," I said as I started to walk away.
"Hey wait, your new here do you need someone to be your friend?" he asked as he grabbed my hand.
"I don't even know who you are," I said as I turned around and looked at him.
"Well then lets get to know each other," he said. "I'm Aidan," he said as he held out his hand.
"I'm Clary," I said as I shook his hand.
"Well its nice to meet you Clary. Wanna hang out tonight?" he asked.
"Um sure I guess. I can sneak out or something,"
"Ok good, I'll wait by your backdoor at 10."
"But you don't know where I live," I said.
"You live in the murder house," he said.
I turned around for a second to get my composure. How did this guy know that, and why is the house called the murder house? I thought just some people committed suicide in the house but maybe not. I turned around to ask the boy but he had seemed to have disappeared.