Yet another room with a door that doesn't drag. There's only a table, and a bed that smells like someone died on it. That someone being me. I die there every night I don't get to do day-reviews with my best friend. That bed is a reminder that I'm all alone once again.

Three boxes stare at me from an otherwise empty corner, judging me for not unpacking them. But every item in those boxes carries the weight of a life snatched away from me.

The room looks lifeless and abandoned; feelings I learned too well, and very quick. And, yet again, this cataclysm of walls is the safest spot I can wander in this house. You'll see why soon.

I open the door, and while it doesn't drag, it creaks like a haunted house. Dad swore he'd fix that soon enough, but I don't need his empty promises. He made me board that plane. Mom's orders, and god forbid I ever go against my mother. Even when she rips you apart from everything you love.

I walk the few steps to the staircase, because my deathbed is on the top floor now, and immediately hear the banter between my mother and Grandma Enedith. I sit on the stairs, leaning against the wall.

"Add more salt!" Grandma scolds.

"Mom, you know you can't eat too salty; it's bad for your blood pressure."

Add that to the list of ways in which I could kill that old bitch. I do keep a list, and don't give me that look: first of all, you don't even know Grandma Enedith, and second, she destroyed my life. I am entitled to destroy hers.

"That's why your food tastes like mud!"

"I'll serve you a plate of mud so you can spot the difference."

Mom doesn't have it easy with her own mother. Serves her right. Although it's fun to see her lose her temper with someone who isn't me for a change. Nobody seems to like Grandma, not even her own daughter. You'll find out why soon enough, I promise.

"If this is what your insufferable family moved in for, then congratulations. You managed to ruin what was a very peaceful life I had by myself."

I expect Mom to backlash with something, but silence takes over the entire house instead. Seriously, even the willow next to my window is devoid of life. Not even pigeons venture there. They may hate Grandma Enedith as much as I do.

I chuckle at the thought, making Grandma scream in horror at the end of the stairs.

"What in blazes, you wretched kid?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" Good idea, added to the list.

"Are you okay, Grandma?" I ask, hoping with all my might that she's not.

"Of course I'm not okay, you creep!" She places her palm flat to her chest and takes a deep breath. She's a drama queen like that. "You scared the hell out of me, as usual. Announce yourself at least!"

Because being anywhere in the house other than my room scares her like she's seen a ghost. That's why the room is the safest spot to be in, see?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You always say the same thing over and over and then you keep surprising me out of every corner in the house."

"Should I wear a bell tied around my neck?"

"Silence! Don't address me unless prompted!"

Now I don't know if I should announce myself or remain silent. I decide for the latter and motion my fingers over my lips as if zipping them shut, which unsurprisingly angers her even more.

"Goddamned kid! If you were my son I'd teach you some manners!" she says, waving her walking cane in the air. "You're a disgrace to my life. Begone with you!"

Yeah, what a lovable specimen.

Instead, she's the one who disappears through the door right in front of the stairs, which leads to her room. Method number eleven to get rid of her is to lock down that door until she rots there. Mom walks out of the kitchen, finally, to see what's going on, and gets startled when she finds me sitting in my spot by the staircase.

"I hate to agree with her, but she may have a point, Johnny." She gives me the sweetest of smiles, one I don't care one bit about. She's been trying that since my arrival last week, and I haven't talked a word to her in retribution. I don't plan to start now, so instead, I stand up and head to my room.

"John, wait..."

I stop at the top of the stairs and stare back at her like the enemy she is.

"Don't talk to me if you don't want to, but at least try to be patient with her. She's your grandmother, after all."

My phone rings before I have to say anything. I know it's Martin because he has his own ringtone. Besides, who else is going to call me here? I grit my teeth in anger; I told him I wouldn't be replying to anything from him until I was ready to do so, but when does anyone at all listen to anything I say? Instead, I have to listen and nod my head to everyone else like I'm just a doll you put conveniently wherever you want. So, instead of answering the phone, or my mother, I smash my phone against Grandma's door with all my might.

Mom muffles Grandma's derogatory words: "John Austin Foster! Pick up that thing, NOW!"

Somehow the phone survived and is still ringing. Not like I care.

"NOW!"

I'm tempted to tell her to make me. Like she made me move first to Celadon Bay and next here, out of nowhere and without even asking. Instead, we get into a staring contest where nobody says a thing, God forbid I ever go against my mom. She may ground me for a week without my phone.

Seriously, she has nothing over me. She already took away everything I ever loved.

"Fine, have it your way," she says, finally. "I get it: you're angry, and you don't like it here, but if you're going to be mad, be mad at me; don't go throwing stuff around like that."

She picks up the phone herself, and walks upstairs to give it to me. "Talk to me, John. Even if it's to tell me you hate me. Please don't shut me down."

She has tears in her eyes and I feel a little tug in my chest. It's the first thing I feel other than an unyielding anger since I arrived, and somehow it makes me feel bad for her, so I make the first mistake since I arrived here and talk back to her. "You reap what you sow. This is all your fault, after all."

Then, I drop the cellphone down the stairs again before walking into my room.