My name is Cassandra. I'm 12 years old, have dark chocolate brown hair and brown eyes. I wear glasses, have long eyelashes, and am NOT girly. For me, the highest insult anyone could ever give me is calling me girly.
I've lived in Chicago, Illinois my whole life, and I know no other place as home. But just two weeks ago, my parents dropped the bombshell on me.
"We're moving to Castle Rock, Oregon."
My response wasn't exactly glamorous, but I'm not that kind of girl, "Where the hell is that?"
I mean, who has ever heard of a place called Castle Rock? I knew right off the bat that this location wasn't going to work out for me at all.
See, I asked my parents why they would possibly want to move to such a random place. They told me they wanted to get away from the city and live somewhere quieter and peaceful, someplace with huge hills and open fields.
But I was shocked. My parents are rich. I know that makes me sound like some stupid stuck up, snobby girl, but I'm not. I've always been known at school for being one of the nicest people ever, but of course everyone has mean moments.
Anyway, I try to be as nice as I can to people, even if they are annoying the shit out of me.
So now there I was, in a car with my parents driving to an unknown little town in the middle of nowhere. I had a right to be a little upset, didn't I? Sigh, I just didn't want to get used to a whole new life with completely different people surrounding me. I had had friends in Chicago and I hated leaving them. Who knew what types of people were awaiting me where I was headed? Yeah, sounds harsh and I know not to judge before I even know someone, but I couldn't help it.
It was late at night when we got there and for being mid-summer, it was quite chilly stepping out of the car. I was half asleep, so I didn't have much of a chance to see where the hell I had landed. I just grabbed my jacket from the back seat and wrapped it tightly around me to keep from freezing. I headed into the house quickly and didn't bother looking at it from the outside to see what it looked like. But I could easily tell it was huge. This was no surprise. My parents may have wanted a quieter, less stressful life, but they didn't want to give up having a huge home.
I personally hated being rich. When you're rich people think of you as some sort of snob who's always well dressed. But again, I'm not like that. I wear jeans and a t-shirt and no shoes when I go outside just like the next small town kid.
So now, in the darkness of the night, I found my way into the house, didn't bother to turn on a light, and walked up the stairs. I crashed through the second floor until I found a bedroom to sleep in.
It took me what seemed like forever to get to a room that actually resembled a bedroom and when I did, I immediately fell onto the bed and fell asleep.
Just seconds before I crashed, I thought about the next day and told myself I would explore the town then.
Who knew what lie ahead of me?