The day of my sixteenth birthday, my life ended. Actually, it was mother's life that had ended. I can't describe the feeling of seeing my own mother drenched with her own blood and not breathing. As of then, I am now living with my father, Ray. My father who I haven't seen since I was ten years old. "I am so happy to finally see you again, Jules. You are going to love your new home," Ray said, almost enthusiastically. "I can't wait," was all I said.
After 3 hours of very akward silence, we finally made it to my new home. I was three stories, including the attic, had an iron fence wrapped around the backyard from each side of the house, and a two car garage. My dad's car came to a stop and I climbed out and looked around. Sure, it wasn't the house that I had lived in with my mother, but it would have to do. My father came around to the passenger side of the car, looking as if he was wanting to say something. That was when his cell phone started ringing. "Why don't you get your stuff out of the car. I have some important business to take care of." With that, he went inside and left me to get my own things out of his car. As I went to the trunk of the car, there in the window of the house next door was someone watching me. I don't know who it was, but I suddenly had a bad feeling.
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