Lacie.
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Prologue.
My father gave me a nervous smile, reaching to pull the door open.
"Are you ready?" He asked, gripping the door handle. I smiled, not daring to speak. With a final gaze to me, he opened the door. A young blonde haired girl was on the doorstep, suitcases at her feet.
"Hey, I'm Amanda," She said shyly. She popped her gum, and offered a hand out to me. I smiled at her kindly, and hesitantly took the offered hand. It was soft, but firm, like she wanted to me to know that she was friendly; but one bad idea and she'll hurt me.
I'm afraid.
I'm not used to people coming up to me. At all. I only have a select amount of friends; the majority of whom I don't even see out of school. I don't mesh well meeting new people, so sharing a room with someone I barely know is going to be something new altogether for me.
"Now, Maggie. Make your new step-sister feel at home." My father smiled towards me proudly, and I mirrored the smile right back to him. I'm glad my father is able to finally move on, he needed this. Looking back at my new step-sister, she reminded me so much of an Amanda. A popular Amanda. Her hair was a strawberry blonde, and she had a strand twirling freely between her manicured fingers. Hher short, but cute floral dress was matched with a belt and cute cowboy boots, and she just screamed popular.
"Love the bowtie," She offered, and I smiled in thanks, slightly stunned at her compliment. No one has ever said that to me before. I blush a little.
"Doesn't it just do wonders for her neck?" My step-mother, Sharlene, said from next to my father. Her hand was tangled into my father's, and I could feel the love radiating off the two.
"Th- Thank you, guys," I stuttered, and they both smiled an identical smile. Sharlene carefully took her hand out of my father's and clapped her hands together.
"Roger, how about you go and take our bags upstairs while Maggie shows Amanda to their room?" She offers, and I take the request. She wants me to take Amanda to our room.
I never shared a room before. I wonder if she keeps things messy? I blush a little more, knowing that they're waiting for my answer.
"Yes, of course," I start in my proper voice spiced with a southern twang I try to keep down, "I would love to show you to our rooms."
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She follows me up the steps to the back most door, and I open it for her, letting her walk in first.
"Well, isn't this a cute ol' room?" She said, and walked over to my side. Everything was color coded; white hairbrush, white bedspread, white walls, white desk. White was a color that always stood out to me, bland at the surface, but seems to hold a secret life of color behind it. In fact, the only thing that truly pops in my room is the neon orange picture frame on my dresser. It was a photo of me and my mother. I was only 6 at the time, and you could see my two front teeth missing from the picture.
"Was this her?" She asked me, and I knew who 'her' was. It was my mom. All I did was nod, and slowly walk up beside her.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she? Just like a flower." I smiled, thinking of back to the days when the three of us were happy. Amanda sent me a sad, small smile.
"Yes," She started, making her way to her side of the room. "A wilting flower."
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