It has been a week and two days since the crash. Nine days. It's been two days since their funeral. And today I would be sent off to someplace in Montana where apparently my only relatives live.
My only relatives live in Montana? Wouldn't you think that there is some other family I have other than just some people in Montana? I think they were the first to pity me and decide 'hey, maybe she's not that bad?'.
I tapped my foot on the ground as I waited for the plane to take off. Music blared into my ears. Sail was playing.
They allowed me to go home and grab a suitcase full of my things. Nothing else. What really ticked me off is that they had some looney go with me to make sure I wouldn't do anything stupid while I was there.
I don't think the guy really cared since he was taking a drag of his cigarette outside. Plus, he ignored me the whole time.
Pretty soon the plane took off and we were soaring through the air to Montana. Seven hours. It would take seven hours to get to this random place in Montana. Seven hours from my parents grave sight. They didn't allow me to go there the day after the funeral, nor the day of the funeral.
I didn't get to see them get lowered into the ground.
A sob made its way up my throat. They didn't let me see them for the last time, now all I had was the photo in my suitcase of them smiling. My chest constricted, another sob.
I know it wasn't my fault. I know that the drunk behind the wheel was to fault, but that didn't make the pain any less worse.
I only had received a broken arm and a few cuts and bruises. They had received much worse. I had overheard the nurses talking outside my room they night before. They had said something along the lines of their body parts ending up all over. They had also said something that wouldn't leave my pounding head.
I heard that the father's head came clean off from a flying piece of metal.
Why would you say something like that directly outside of the patients room? Can't you just keep your blood filled thoughts to yourself?
After they had said that in hushed tones I couldn't get it out. I had conjured up a mental picture of Dad's head flying off in a spurt of blood unintentionally.
I shook my head to get rid of the disturbing pictures out. Sobs racked my sore body. Why couldn't I die with them? Why didn't I die? Why? My chest constricted. My gut twisted into a knot. I tried to take my mind off of the gory thoughts. I tried to calm down my crying.
Nothing really worked, sometimes it never works. Sometimes it gets too hard to move on, and sometimes it becomes too much.
I shook my head again, and turned up the music before watching the clouds move past the window.
The plane had landed. The rest of the trip consisted of screaming kids, tears, naps, and music. My body is emotionally exhausted. I just need to take a long rest, and possibly a drag on a cig.
Music still blared in my head. Centuries by Fall Out Boy had turned on a few seconds ago. I had my suitcase with me after arguing with another girl that this suitcase is mine. We obviously had identical suitcases.
I sighed. Apparently my 'relatives' were suppose to pick me up as soon as I got here. That was half an hour ago. I don't know if I'm suppose to be relieved or worried. I chewed on my mint gum. I guess my 'relatives' care so much about me.
I pulled out my sketch pad that I had managed to grab from my house. I had managed to snatch a pencil from the front desk. The blind old bat didn't really seem to notice.
I started to sketch the one thing that had remained on my mind the whole time.
I didn't realize how long it had been until someone tapped my shoulder. I yanked out one of my head phones after my little jump fiasco. I twirled around to face who had tapped me.
A man that seemed in his late forties smiled at me. For an older guy he didn't seem that bad. His receding hair line and the worn look on his face seemed to be the only thing indicating his age. His body seemed to not realize how old he is since it was packed with muscle.
Strange, I thought.
"Hello, it's almost eight o'clock. Do you have any family coming to pick you up?" he asked kindly. I really had no clue.
"I'm suppose to," I replied.
"Do you want to call them?" I shook my head. I don't know what their number is, let alone where their house is.
"Okay, if you need anything you can talk to the receptionist," he warmly said before leaving me alone. Yeah, fat chance I would talk to the blind bat. I sighed. Where is my 'family'?
I slipped my headphone back in and continued to sketch. A yawn escaped my mouth. It's eight? That means that it's ten in New York. Ugh, time change.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into another hour.
I felt the earth shake beneath me. Voices yelling. Frantic and almost annoyed calls. Then a slap stung my left cheek.
Startled I shot straight up from my sleep. I hit my head on something hard. Pain filled my brain, pulsing. My hand shot up to my forehead. Some how my headphones had come out of my ears.
"Ow! What is wrong with you? Are you trying to mess up my perfect face?" a deep voice shouted. I shook my head. What? My eyes settled on a guy that looked around my age. He had brown fluffed up hair in that kind of snobbish way. Green eyes glaring at me.
Wait- a guy is worried about his complection?
I busted up laughing, this guy is most definitely one of those snobbish teenagers. This is great. He is worried about his freaking face!
He glared at me while rubbing her, his, head. "Are you Morgan Stone?" he asked. I nodded.
"Yeah," my voice was quieter. This couldn't be one of my 'relatives', could it? Oh please no.
"Come on Stone, lets go," he muttered. My jaw dropped. This snot ball is my relative? No freaking way. He grabbed my suitcase in my shock and headed out the door. I shook my head, I launched up with my sketch pad and pencil in hand. I found my head phones and iPod on the floor. I snatched it up.
I quickly made my way out of the airport and into the raining night. What time is it and where'd he go?
"Hey! Stone! Get your lazy butt over here!" My head swivelled to the side to see a purple mustang with Snot inside. My eyes widened a fraction. Since when do purple mustangs exist? I slipped my sketch pad under my sweatshirt to keep it dry before heading over to the mustang.
I slipped inside the warm vehicle.
"Who are you?" I asked. He ignored me. I rolled my eyes. Wow, so mature!
I buckled in and popped out my sketch pad. The mustang still hummed in the same space. Why isn't he driving? I turned to look at him to find him looking at my sketch pad. My eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" I asked quite rudely. He shook himself out of his entranced state.
"Oh-uh- nothing." Nothing my butt. I closed my sketchpad. I hate it when people snoop into my things and personal space. Really, stop being so nosy people, it's annoying! I rolled my eyes.
The mustang slid out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. My heartbeat began to increase as our speed picked up. What if we crashed? What if some drunk dude hits the car?
Snot - I should figure out his name, but this works for now - didn't seem to have a problem with how fast we are going. I gulped. Please let this get over soon.
Cinching my eyes shut I grasped onto the chair tightly. Even with the seat belt fear coursed through my veins.
I felt the car slow down and turn to the right. I peeked through one eye. We had turned into a neighborhood full of huge houses - mansions if that makes you feel better.
Why would we going through a neighborhood full of mansions? I don't think my said 'family' lives in a mansion. Maybe, but not likely.
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" I heard the snot ball next to me ask. I looked over at him through the corner of my eye.
"No reason." One of his eyebrows raised. Yeah, lying is not my best hobby. He didn't press on even though he looked like he wanted to.
The mustang entered through a gate that wrapped around a mansion. We drove around the back and into a garage. When the mustang parked I exited the vehicle. I don't know if I liked that ride. Snot grabbed my suitcase from the trunk before moving it in front of me.
"Alright, listen Stone. We have guests over. Important guests. Don't do anything stupid," he pointed his pointer finger into my face, his face holding seriousness. I raised my free hand up and flicked his finger out of my face.
"Fine," I muttered. Important guests? Whatever.
We maneuvered inside the mansion. It wasn't really that impressive. It looked like any other kind of mansion. It has all the nice appliances and stuff like that. He shuffled me into a sitting room. I slapped his pushy hands away.
"Stop it." Snot rolled his eyes at me. When he glanced towards a particular couch with the 'important' guests sitting on it he stiffened then stood straight. He smiled uneasily at them. I glanced over to the guests. There was about five other people in the room.
Two older looking women, Moms. My chest twisted painfully. And two older looking men, Dads. The sight of them reminded me of my own parents. I didn't bother to look at the other guest. My eyes drifted down to my worn out black Vans. It hurt too much to think about them.
A silence settled over the room as they caught sight of us. There was only one word said that made the entire room go into a shocked silence before everything blew up.