It's a Start
You glared at your aunt.
“No.”
She pinched her brow and sighed, breathing in and out (as she often did when you were around) before looking back up at you, “Y/n, it’s final. I’m sending you to your uncle’s. This is a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity and I am going to take it. Besides, you’ll only be there for as long as it takes me to find someone else for you to stay with. Or until you’re old enough to live on your own.”
“I’m sixteen.” You said flatly, “That’s at least two years.”
“Who knows, you might only be there for one year.” She sighed. “Y/n, I know you’ve been through a lot in the past few years but can you at least try this one thing for me?”
You huffed, not feeling in the mood to argue around in circles anymore, “Fine. When am I leaving?”
“In three days, so if you want to start packing or getting everything ready you can go ahead and do that.” She gave you a sad smile, “I’m really sorry Y/n but I have some work I need to do so I’ll see you this evening ok?”
You forced a smile, “Yep. See you then.”
As soon as the door shut behind her you let out a groan. “Great! I’m moving to Queens!” you shouted to no one in particular, with your hands thrown up to the sky, “Anything else you’d like to throw at me Universe?!”
~~~~~~~~~~
(Three Days Later)
You set your suitcases down with a thunk on the pavement outside of your uncle’s apartment, looking up in awe at the height of the buildings around you.
You felt a slight nudge against you and your aunt said, “Come on Y/n we don’t have all day let’s keep it moving.”
“Right, wouldn’t want you to miss your flight,” you mumbled but nevertheless picked up your suitcases and walked up the front steps.
You fumbled with the door handle for a good while before it opened before you and a man you assumed to be your uncle greeted you.
“You must be Y/n!” he made a motion to take one of your suitcases but you pulled away.
“I got it.”
“Alrighty then,” he gave an unphased smile, “I’ll show you your room in a minute, I want to talk to your aunt first, but feel free to set your stuff down and look around.”
“M’kay,” you obeyed, abandoning your suitcases at the door and walking through the first open door you saw. The room you entered was surprisingly large for what you had originally thought the apartment would be and from the ceiling hung an exquisite chandelier.
“What? Is he a millionaire or something?” you wondered aloud to yourself as you ran your hand over the top of the smooth wooden table. You assumed this was the dining room, or at least a room used when guests came over so you set out for the room you were more often likely to eat in.
And after a few minutes, you found it. But you were no less impressed at its grandeur.
“Holy shit...” you murmured as your eyes came to rest on the marble countertops and the pristine plates in the cabinets. Plates you were sure to be a very expensive sort of china.
“Impressed?”
You spun around at your uncle’s voice.
“Kind of, yeah.” You let your eyes wander around the rest of the room, “I haven’t even seen the whole house.” you turned to him with a questioning expression, “You got rich grandparents or something?”
He laughed, motioning for you to follow him, “My father, actually, he died recently and I inherited his house and most of his money as well.”
You nodded but stayed silent as he led you up a long, winding staircase.
He stopped in front of a room, “This should be your room, I’ll bring up your suitcases while you see if it’ll work for your stay. I hope you like it.”
You thanked him then began looking around as you had in the kitchen and the dining room. The bed, oddly, wasn’t very lavish and wasn’t a canopy bed like you’d expected it to be but rather an entierly different style than the rest of the house. For starters, the headboard was made of varying planks of wood, mostly darker shades but with a few lighter shades sprinkled in. The bed itself had a cream coverlet with an overlaying dark forest green blanket, soft to the touch.
Your attention was drawn away from observing the room more when your uncle returned, your suitcases in hand.
He let out a puff of air, “Here are your bags,”
He flicked out his wrist to expose a watch and checked the time, “Oh jeez,” he grinned, “I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”
He clapped his hands together, giving you another smile. “I’ll go get dinner ready while you unpack,”
“That’s fine,” you agreed, noticing, now that he had drawn attention to it, how hungry you were.
Once he left the room you began unloading your clothes from your suitcases into the dark mahogany dressers.
Another expensive item, jeez. If this is how you’re using your inheritance I would assume you weren't very close with your father, Uncle. You rolled your eyes as you unzipped another suitcase which held your toiletries and some of your shirts.
Holding your toiletry bags in your hand you searched for a bathroom until you found one a few doors down the hall. Entering it you quickly exited once you realized that most of the space was already occupied by your uncle’s things. You resumed your search, reentering your room and finally finding one a little ways away from your dresser.
At least I won’t have to share one with Uncle Frank.
You shook your head at the thought and began setting up your things, cursing aloud when you realized that you’d forgotten to pack any sort of “sanitary products”. You double-checked your bags to make sure before flopping backward onto the bed with a frustrated huff.
Wonderful, the first night you were here you’d have to ask possibly the most awkward question you could think of to your uncle. At dinner too.
This is shaping up to be a great stay in Queens.
~~~~~~~~~~
“So, um, Y/n, what do you like to do for fun,” Uncle Frank asked before taking a forkful of salad.
You shrugged, “I like to do a lot of things, there’s not one thing in particular.” God pulling teeth would be less painful than this conversation.
“If you want you could take a tour of the city tomorrow, by yourself or with me, it’s your choice.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “This time of year the city isn’t too packed since we’re not near any major holidays.”
You reached for the butter knife to slather some on your bread before taking a bite of it, “That could be fun,” you swallowed, “I need to buy some things anyway. My aunt didn’t give me much time to pack.”
That was a lie. You just didn’t want to admit that you’d been stupid enough to forget something as necessary as that.
“Sure,” Your uncle nodded, “I could take you tomorrow,”
“Sounds good,” you looked at the remaining few bites of food on your plate and decided you were full. “Hey, is it alright if I go chill upstairs for a bit?”
You weren’t exactly sure why you were asking him for permission; it’s not like he was your father or anything, but he'd been nice to you so you figured it was the least you could do.
“Yeah, sure,” he stood, grabbing his plate and utensils then collecting yours, “I’ll be down here cleaning up or watching TV if you need me.”
“Thanks,” you said with a smile that wasn’t as forced as the one you’d given him earlier then headed up to “your” room.
~~~~~~~~~~
(Around 12:30)
A few hours later you heard the stairs creak and a knock on your door.
You looked up from your book, the one your mother had given you, and called, “Come in,”
The door opened slightly and your uncle peaked his head in, “I was just coming up to tell you that I’m heading to bed and ask if you’re good for the night.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, returning your eyes to your book as you heard the door close, not really feeling like trying to sleep. You knew you had to get up early for school tomorrow (ugh) but you also wanted the chance to think because though you’d been alone for most of the evening it had been interrupted frequently by your uncle. It’s not that you minded having someone besides your aunt around to talk to but there was such a thing as overbearing.
You shut your book and flipped over to your back, your head resting against your pillows as you followed your wandering mind. Soon it drifted from thoughts about the move to Queens into older memories.
Your sixth birthday party.
The stray dog you’d found at ten and begged to keep only to be disappointed when your parents gave a firm no.
The time they took you to the petting zoo when you were eleven.
The car crash at fourteen.
The year of custody battles that followed until you had finally come to rest, traumatized and lonely, at your aunts.
You sighed, absentmindedly reaching down to rub the scar that ran down your leg as, not for the first time, memories of that night flashed in your vision.
The tires squealed as your father frantically stomped on the brake repeatedly, trying to get it to work while jerking the steering wheel back and forth to avoid the oncoming traffic.
I thought Mom told him to get the brakes checked last week- you thought before you were brought back to reality when your mother screamed.
“Erin! Look out!-”
Her words were cu7 off when they slammed, headfirst, into another car.
You vaguely heard the sound of glass crunching, the sound of horns blaring before everything went black.
You shook yourself from the memory when you felt your heart begin to pound in your chest and your breathing hitch. You turned over on your side.
Maybe sleep was a better option...