She peered over the windowsill. It was raining heavily and she was eager to get out of the house and meet up with people in town. Very bipolar might she say, since she was the one who had gave the cold shoulder to her mother when she said that she should make some friends before starting the first day of school.
"Do you want some hot chocolate, sweetie?" her mother queried from the ajar white painted oak door. Her amber hair that her daughter inherited from her was pulled up in a messy bun.
"No, thanks," she replied curtly, not wanting to be disturbed at the moment. She wanted to go back to the big town she once lived in. She missed Adele and Kristen; her close friends.
"I know you might not find it fun at first, but think of the adventure ahead of you, instead of looking back where the past is," Mrs. Castell whispered to her daughter, walking deeper into the room to reach Ophelia.
She kissed her daughter's head softly before retreating back out of the decent sized bedroom occupied by a single sized bed, a shelf across from it and a cupboard that was attached to the wall on the other side.
Ophelia sat near the windowsill for a good hour, thinking about what had happened to her life and trying to find the benefits of it than focusing on the bad one.
She laid down on the unexpectedly soft mattress and dozed off after thousands of uncomfortable tosses and turns.
"Honey, wake up!" Mrs. Castell yelled on top of her lungs when she saw the clock had ticked half past eight in the morning. She blamed herself for getting too caught up with making the breakfast.
Moments later, she found her one and only kid was dressed up in a simple black dress that reached her knees. Her hair that was a brighter shade of amber draped on one side in a beach wavy curls. Her eyes were barely opened.
She looked just like her father except for the hair color and skin tone. The dark brown irises and the way she smiled.
"Mom? Are we ready to go?" Ophelia's voice caught Mrs. Castell off guard, but she quickly masked it with a small nod and half-hearted smile.
This is it, Ophelia whispered to herself. New town, new life, new friends.
She was about to step into the school hallway when a letter with a dancing ballerina stamp hit her head. It fell from above, but when she looked up, there was nothing interesting other than the dark clouds and thunders grumbling.
Great, rain is a part of my life now, she mumbled.
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