The flight from New Jersey to Los Angeles took over four hours. For someone who has never been on a flight before that was a long time for me to remain in one position. Luckily for me, I managed to make sure that boredom didn't get ahold of me. I spent most of the flight listening to music on my iPod while sketching different types of flowers. I know it's a useless thing to draw but it made the time fly by.

I have always had a flair for the creative arts. I started sketching when I was four and got my first art set for my fifth birthday. Once I had mastered sketching with a pencil I moved to a pen. When I got good at that I moved to painting, which I am still learning. I am currently learning how to work with watercolour, which isn't that bad.

My plan for after high school is to apply to Yale where I will study art. Ever since I finished my first drawing becoming a successful artist has been my dream job. My whole family told me I was nuts and that artists don't make a lot of money. My father tried to get me interested in interior design but failed miserably. After his dreadful failure, my mom tried to get me to take an interest in law, but like my father, her efforts were sorely wasted.

My grandmother was the only one who encouraged me to follow my dreams. She loved art like me and she was the one who taught me most things I know when it comes to sketching. When she died six years ago I cried for days on end. When she passed away it felt like a massive hole had been punched through my heart shattering it into a million pieces. It is the only experience of heartbreak I have been through... so far.

For months after her death, I tried to fill the hole back up. Desperately attempted to put my shattered heart back together with cheap glue. Needless to say, it didn't work. My parents sent me to a therapist when things started spiralling downhill for me. I hated going at first but as much as I hated her I have to admit she did help me patch that hole up.

So lost in the past I don't notice my father approaching me until his large and calloused hand grabs my bare shoulder causing me to jump.

"Vega, we've landed," he informs me in a groggy voice. He had been sleeping for the majority of the flight.

"Okay," I quietly mumble and I get up to retrieve my carry-on bag from the cupboard above me.

Together we manage to survive the mind-numbing customs process. With all our luggage completely checked, we leave the bustling airport and head out to the parking lot where our new car is waiting for us. Cause of our move my parents had to sell our old car. They were worried that we would have to wait weeks to get another car. Luckily the whole ordeal was resolved when out of the blue my mom's new boss bought her a brand new car as a welcome to the firm gift.

"Wow, this looks sick," I say when I see the brand-new car: a shiny white 2019 Subaru Ascent.

"I'm not entirely sure what that means but it sounds good so I will have to agree with our daughter," my father says with a smile.

We hop into the car and with the help of Google Maps my dad starts driving us to our new home.

Even though my ears hurt I pop in my earphones again and play Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber's Stuck With You. With the song playing softly in the background I silently watch people walking on the sidewalk beside us.

I've always enjoyed watching people when we are driving. I like to observe their body language and try to guess the demons they are hiding behind their smiles. As an artist, I'm trained to see more than what meets the eye. People are a great way to practice it because what is shown on your face is not always in your heart.

The car turns left into a beautiful street. I don't take much notice of its name because I am far too busy looking at the size of the houses. Growing up in a small apartment in New Jersey these places look like mansions, okay more like mini mansions but they are still cool.

My dad whistles like a teenage boy noticing a girl he likes. "Check at these places," he says with so much excitement I'm waiting for him to jump out of the moving car. 

"I know right? They make our old place look like trash," my mom says.

My dad gasps. "Hey, that place was our trash. You know, the one we spent years saving up for. Don't speak badly about it."

"Sorry, I forgot how sentimental that apartment was to you," my mom apologizes.

My phone vibrates in my hand which tickles my palm and interrupts my song. I twist the screen up to face me and turn it on. A notification from WhatsApp shows that Rose has sent me a message.

RomcomRose: Sup girl how was your flight? ✈

Every time I look at the contact name I gave to Rose I smile. Rose is obsessed with romantic comedy movies. She is waiting for the day a tall dark stranger will whisk her into his arms. She wants her first kiss to be in the rain and she desperately wants two bad boys fighting for her, you know your typical romantic comedy stuff. I think.

Me: It was exhausting and there was a woman with a screaming baby on 😪😪😪.

RomcomRose: 😂😂😂😂

RomcomRose: Have you gotten to your new home yet? 🏡

Me: No, we are almost there.

RomcomRose: Chat later my mom is yelling at me to do my chores. 😧

Me: 😂 Good luck.

"Here we are," my dad announces as he turns up a small driveway that leads up to a two-story Victorian house.

I gaze up in awe at the beautiful structure before me. The outside of the house resembles the colour of snow. The thatched roof is a light blue which almost blends in with the sky behind it and multiple stained glass windows cover the pure white window panes. Each side of the walkway leading up to the door has small hedges and emerald-green grass. A large tree is positioned on each side sheltering the garden from the early afternoon sun. It looks like a castle that a princess would live in.

My mom appears from behind me.  "What do you think?" she asks placing her hands on my shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"It's amazing," I exclaim with a goofy smile on my face. 

"I'm glad you like it." She gives me a big smile and leans forward to kiss my cheek.

A loud scratching sound of an old vehicle echoes from down the street and both my mom and I turn to see an old moving truck practically pushing itself toward our house. 

"Am I great at timing or am I great at timing," my dad chuckles as he points at the incoming moving truck which I'm assuming contains our stuff.

My mom sighs and shakes her head.

"You're good at timing, Dad," I laugh.

"Thank you, now let's help the boys, it is our stuff after all."

To its relief and that of the drivers, the truck comes to a grinding halt. The doors open and two burly men with pitch-black beards hop out.

"Frank, Kerk thanks again." My dad shakes their hands.

"Well, it is our job," one of the men says.

The other shrugs. "The money isn't too bad as well." 

"Really Frank that was not the right thing to say. Sorry about him," the other man, who I'm now realizing is Kerk, says.

"No, it's okay I understand where he is coming from," my dad sighs. The light in my dad's eyes nearly dies as the words slip out of his mouth.

When I was about six, my dad lost his job. He scrambled everywhere he could to get some money, it didn't help that my mom had been sick for a while and was off from work during that time. Luckily for him, his boss's brother noticed his talent in interior design and offered him a job which was basically the only thing that kept us from going completely broke and ending up homeless.

"Okay, well let's get all this stuff in the house. I only have about two and a half hours left before I have to go. My daughter has a ballet recital and she and my wife will kill me if I'm late," Kerk chuckles.

"Well, then we don't want you to be late." My dad releases a stifling laugh and then goes over to help the guys unload the bigger items from the back of the truck.

My mom and I hop in the back of the truck and remove the smaller and easier-to-carry boxes.

As we all hurry along with the task the sun starts to set plunging everything around us into darkness. After an hour and a half, we manage to unload everything and pack it into the living room where it will stay until we start unpacking tomorrow. 

"Thanks again, guys!" my dad calls out as he waves goodbye to Frank and Kerk as they drive away in that old truck.

"Let's go inside our new home," my mom says.

As we walk into our new mini-mansion my eyes widen with surprise and awe mostly at the massive size. I barely got a chance to properly look at it while we were moving the boxes so now that I can take it all in. Now it's just a blank slate, white walls lined up with ugly brown boxes, but I know once my father puts his interior designing skills to work this place will look marvellous.

We slowly walk into the kitchen and with one look my parents and I can already tell that tonight is either going to be one of those nights where we have to make our food or-

"I'm going to order some pizza. I'm too tired to cook," my mom sighs. She takes out her phone and leaves the room to make the call.

My mouth widens as I smile. I'm so glad we don't have to make our food, I'm honestly too tired.

While my mom walks off and places our order my dad appears beside me and places his hands on his hips.

"We have a lot to do," he sighs.

"Yeah, we do." I nod in agreement.

"Come on let me show you your room."

He leads me up the wooden staircase and down the upstairs hallway. We stop outside one of the doors, and he twists a big bronze doorknob and pushes the white door open.

It's a decent-sized room, probably about a few inches bigger than my old one in New Jersey. Its walls are painted that same boring white which I will have to fix at some point and the sides are lined up with my boxes. My father, Frank, and Kerk have moved my double bed in and pushed it against the furthest wall. They even threw on my old bedding.

"I know it's not huge—"

"It's perfect thank you," I interject and pull him into a tight embrace.

"I'm glad you like it." I can hear the smile in his voice.

We pull apart and stand for a few minutes in comfortable silence.

"Are you excited about school?"

School is the one main thing about this whole move that I am positively dreading.

"Not really," I mumble. Looking down at the floor I start to wipe my shoes against the lament floorboards.

"I know what you are going through. When I was in high school I had to move as well. I lost all my friends and for a while I was alone,"

 I scoff. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" 

"You need to let me finish. Anyway, after a while, I made amazing new friends who are still in my life today: like Uncle Declan. The point that I'm trying to make here is that you will be fine. You are tough and you can handle this."

His pep talk doesn't exactly take away all of my worries but it certainly helps.

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, sweetie."

"Pizza is here!" my mom calls up to us from downstairs.

"Jeez, that was fast," I say.

"Yeah, let's go eat."

After we ate the not-so-delicious pizza and all agreed that we will have to find a new pizza place, I had a quick shower in my bathroom and then went to my new room.

I wiggle under the purple covers and listen to my music as I finish my sketch of the horizon that I started a few days ago. As I flick my pencil against the paper I think back to what my dad told me earlier. The more I think about the more I find myself agreeing with what he said. Going to a new school with new friends will be tough in the beginning but it will get better. Maybe I will make some great friends. Who knows I might even get a boyfriend.

My feelings about this move have been mixed for quite a while but I think it's time to change that. I'm in a new city, in a new house about to go to a new school. This is a new beginning and it's time I start embracing it.