The Girl on the Swing by Rachel (motivational novels for students txt) 📕

“No.” I stated calmly despite the anger that was overcoming my body.
“Nikki, I can’t do this with you right now. It’s not-“ My mom tried to reason with me but I was mad beyond reason by now.
“No!” I exclaimed, raising my voice even more.
“I know, I’m sorry but-” I heard her voice crack and I knew it was just moments before the tears started.
“I’m not moving! I’ll stay with Bren-”
“You don’t have a choice! You’re going! And that’s the end of it. Pack. Now.” I watched my mom’s figure slump over the table before storming out. I paused in the hallway long enough to hear the soft sobs begin to escape her and my throat began to tighten also.
I had been without a father, and she without a husband, for a week now. The funeral had been only four days ago, just before she informed me that we were moving. I understood that my mom wanted to get away, she needed to escape the pain that this house held, I felt that need as well. But I had no desire to move to some old house in the middle of nowhere and leave everyone that I knew behind. But she did. She was forty-four and I was fifteen, so of course she was right.
I had no choice.
I crawled into bed for the last time in my own home that night. I wake up as I had every night for the past week. Shaking, drenched in sweat, stifling screams and tears of terror and rage. I dreamed of the night my dad died, it replayed in my mind over and over and over again. And, just like ever night, I would suffer the hours until sunrise alone, curled under my covers as sobs escaped me into my bedroom, praying that sleep would stay far, far away.
The drive from Kentucky to Maine was agonizingly quiet. Neither one of us felt any desire to speak to the other. Silence weighed in and I blasted my music so loud that it hurt and I felt as though my earphones would break.
Maine was wet and gray as we drove down a winding road that led to my new home, and I had a feeling that it always would be. Eventually we turned onto a gravel driveway that led into the thick forest that surrounded us. I hadn’t even seen the clearing coming until we were in it. A medium sized opening cut out of the forest contained a yard and house. At the sight of the house my jaw dropped. It was huge. The old design had the center section a little bit taller and the two wings on either side, there were logically placed windows all over the huge building. A large porch spanned the front of the house, an old rocking chair was still sitting on it. The grand front double door way was the center point of everything. And, the entire thing was falling apart mess.
Every last bit of paint had long since peeled off, leaving gray walls staring back at us, adding to the overall grayness of the state. One of the stairs leading up onto the porch had a hole in it, and the rest were sagging and didn’t appear as though they would hold if a person stepped on one. The windows were so dusty they couldn’t be seen through. The yard was overgrown with grass three feet tall. It was strange, the yard was a perfectly round circle with the house in the center. To the far right, amidst the fog and shadows and trees, I could make out an old cemetery with head stones under a thick layer of green moss. I looked over at my mom, convinced she got lost and pulled into the wrong driveway.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She murmured quietly, mostly to herself. “There’s even a swing set and tire swing out back.” I thought about mentioning that I had outgrown swing sets five years ago, and that this one was probably far too dangerous to even use but then decided against it. She continued to gaze at the crumpling house as we slowly rumbled up the drive. She stopped the car just out front and got out with more joy than she had since my father died. I remained belted into the car, thinking that this would be the perfect set to film a horror movie. For a split second I thought I saw a face appear in an upstairs window in the West Wing. Just a moment, then it was gone. I shook my head, scolding myself. The house was already affecting my mind and I was yet to step a foot out of the car. Forcing a deep, calming breath I open the car door and stepped out onto the yellow grass.
My mom was already at the door, having somehow made it up the porch stairs alive. I joined her as she was struggling to unlock the door. “The key turned but the thing just won’t open.” She muttered. She took a step back, frustrated and near tears. She cried over everything now. Sighing I grabbed and turned the handle while giving the old door a rough shove with my shoulder. I would either put a hole in the door or the ancient piece of wood would open. Luckily it opened with a quick groan and a grunt on my part. My shoulder now ached but I restrained myself from complaining. Glancing at my mom as she strode in ahead of me I caught her shaking her head and dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her shirt.
The acrid stench hit me like a wall but my mother pretended not to notice, she ignored a lot of things these days. I tried not to gag on the overwhelming smell of mold, dust, mothballs, rot, and death. Everything, the walls, windows, furniture, was carpeted with dust. Spider webs decorated the window panes and moths fluttered in the high ceiling corners. The perimeter of the room was lined with dead bugs. Yet another barely audible sigh escaped my mother’s lips.
“Just think, Nikki, what it’ll look like after we’ve fixed it all up? Just imagine it with clean, repainted walls. I think the outside should be white. New furniture….” Another sigh. “It must have a touch of elegance, gold trimming perhaps.” I watched my mom as thoughts, ideas, and plans built up in her mind. This was why she was an Interior Designer. She could look at a house and tell you exactly what it needed to become a home. “Well then, get in the car. We’re going to the store.” I was still inspecting the house the when she said this and it took me a moment to comprehend.
“Wait, what?”
“Nikki, baby. I can’t just fix this with my bare hands. Besides, we have six hours before bedtime and I would like to have a least one room thoroughly cleaned so we can sleep here tonight. Renovating this place will cost me enough as it is, I refuse to throw away money that could buy a beautiful curtain on a hotel room.”
“Mom-” I started to object but she was already outside and opening the car door. There was no way I was sleeping in this house tonight. No way.

I lay curled in my sleeping bag on a brand new mattress that we had thrown on the floor in what was soon to be a kitchen. The air stank of house cleaner. And the wooden floor was still slightly damp for I had just finished scrubbing it not an hour before. My mom had dropped me back off at home before returning to town and ordering new appliances, furniture, and other essential things. She had a plumber coming the next day. I found a rude surprise after lifting the toilet seat. Apparently the local kids in town enjoyed coming here to spend their Friday nights doing dirty things. That would explain all the cigarettes and why the toilet was jammed with cardboard cigarette boxes. I was yet to see my room. My mom told me I could explore after she dropped me back off but I decided against the idea of walking around the creepy house alone. With all honesty I believed there would probably be a murdering criminal hiding from the law somewhere in this mansion, even my mom agreed that it was a good hiding place after I brought it up. Now she lay next to me, I could hear her gentle breathing as she slept.
I was up at the crack of dawn the next morning, anxious to be done with night. After a few hours of fitful sleep I was ready to cry but was never given a chance. My mom was up, urging me to follow her and that I needed to see my new room. I could work on the cleaning aspect of it today and tomarrow she would take me back into town for furniture, paint and decorations.
“Oh, you’re just going to love it! You have a window over looking the back yard, and you can see our lake in the distance! You even have your own bathroom! And, my room is just across the hall!” She spoke quickly, excitedly. Meanwhile, I was forcing enthusiasm and trying not to be negative. My mom deserved to be happy, she did. She had been through a lot lately, we both had, and now it was my time to support her as she had for me.
“We have a lake?”
“Yes! Didn’t I mention it to you? Hmm, maybe not. It’s small, but it’s still a lake, or maybe a large pond, Im not quite sure. I know how much you love to swim and there is even a cliff about fifteen feet up to jump off of as long as the water is deep enough below it will be loads of fun! And there’s a perfect tree for a rope swing so you can swing into the water, and-“
“Okay, Mom. Sounds great.” She turned to give me a ‘don’t sass me, girl’ look and I playfully winked back. We had gone up a flight of stairs and were in a hallway that took a right at the top of stairs. It was dark because it lacked windows and my mom flicked a small switch in the wall. A row of dim lights flickered on slowly above our heads, lighting our way. After passing a few closed doors my mom opened one on the left side of the hallway. A small cloud of dust erupted as I followed her in.
It was a decent sized room and, just as she had said, there was a window overlooking the yard beyond. There was an empty bed frame in the far right corner, and another