Wiping the car window clean with the
sleeve of my sweater, I took a look outside. The only proof that we had
actually entered Forks – and were not just driving around in the Amazon – was
the small road sign that read 'Welcome in Forks'. So far I had seen green
trees, green plants, hell even the road sign was covered in green moss. I
sighed heavily and heard another sigh escape from the other side of the back
seat. My sister, probably.
After only a few more minutes the car stopped in front of a tiny house which, surprise surprise, had a greenish glow to it. The house itself was small, with only a tiny driveway on one side and a large tree on the other. I could already say with certainty that I hated Forks.
'Don't you think it looks magical?' My mother dared to comment from her place in the front passenger seat. Neither me, nor Veronica answered, but I think I could speak for the both of us if I say that the closest way it resembled something magical to me was when I imagined an old, evil witch living there.
Reluctantly I left the warm, comfortable car to step into the damp air. Those were really the only possibilities when it came to the weather in Forks, I thought bitterly. It either rained or it was misty and damp. Believe me, I Googled it. Truthfully, it was a miracle it wasn't raining yet, as apparently Forks had the highest ratings of rainfall of the entire United States.
We crossed the lawn towards the front door and opened it to find a small – very small – corridor. It was barely big enough to house two people at the same time and I became claustrophobic just by looking at it. I didn't get time to dwell on it, though, for we soon continued to find the kitchen on the right hand side and the living room on the other. My mother nearly had a heart attack when she found out there was no dishwasher installed and had to cling to the counter to remain standing.
'I told you this was a bad idea,' I mumbled, but knew no one was listening anyway. After waiting a few moments for my mother to regain her posture we visited the mini living room and then went up the stairs. According to the advertisement, there would be three bedrooms and one bathroom. I didn't like the idea of having to share a bathroom with three other people, especially because I was used to having one entirely for myself, but again decided not to comment as no one cared about my opinion anyway. After all, I really didn't want to move to Forks, but where had that brought me?
Dad pointed to one of the doors, which apparently was my room. Opening it, it took all my strength not to burst out in tears at the size of it. If it had not specifically said three bedrooms in the advertisement, the room could easily be mistaken for a closet or even a double wall. It was a miracle someone had even taken the effort of putting a window in it, but I was nonetheless glad they had. At least I would not suffocate to death.
Closing the door, I didn't even try to hide my sulky face and went to look at my parents room – which happened to be a lot bigger than my one square feet. 'I hate it here, Dad,' I commented dryly.
'Sweetheart, we just got here. I am sure that once we've decorated and gotten settled you will like it.'
'And when we've gotten a dishwasher,' my mother added, more to my Dad than to me. Once again, my opinion was completely overruled. Honestly, I highly doubted if I would ever grow to like Forks. What am I saying, I even doubted if I was even going to survive Forks.
I decided that my presence was no longer needed and, after seeing that Veronica's room, too, was a lot bigger than mine, huffed and went to the car. Putting on the radio, I came to the conclusion that apparently even the signal was bad. After fumbling for a while in hopes I would somehow find the right frequency, I gave up and leaned against the back of the seat. Living in Forks was most definitely going to be one of the things I would suppress for the rest of my life.