"Layla! Quickly, get your bag!" my father bellowed as I struggled to carry my heavy bag full of my belongings. It was the day where I would be moving to my stepmother's house. 

Carrying my bag, I yelled back at my father, "I'm coming!"

There were boxes all over the floor, labeled with what were inside it. There were boxes for clothes, toys, paintings that my father bought, almost everything we had inside our old house. I hopped onto the grey van, and was soon sent to my new home. 

My new home looked really big at first sight. The compound was grand and there was a garden full of plants. Looking inside the house, I saw large, beautiful paintings of swans. 

"Oh hello, you must be Layla! Come on in, my dear!" Someone called me. I turned to look and saw my father's girlfriend, inviting me into the house. I made my way in, head looking down on the ground. 

"Don't be shy, Layla! We are all family! Well, maybe we're not family yet, but we will be, soon! Follow me, I'll take you to your room!" 

As I followed that tall lady wearing a dress, I looked around the house. It was a mansion, a dream home. It was a big house with three floors. There were paintings everywhere, and everything looked grand. 

My room was at the corner of the second level. It had a large bed, two tables - one for studying and another for my own use, a television, three sofa beanbags, a bookshelf, a gigantic cupboard, and a small desk with a clock beside my bed. The room's wallpaper were full of rainbows, and there were even photographs of me in photo frames, and they were hung everywhere. 

"Do you like it, Layla? I specially picked the wallpaper for you! If you want, your dad and I could also add another cupboard for your stuffed toys!" my father's girlfriend exclaimed in excitement. I could tell she couldn't wait for my father and I to stay at her house. 

"I...I do like it. I don't think we need to add anything else, my room is just perfect, I...I love it," I replied, trying to put a smile on my face. 

"Glad you like it, Layla!" 

The lady then skipped out of the room, pulling my hand along. I sighed and dragged my feet behind her. 

"Make yourself at home, Layla," the lady told me, smiling. "I'll go prepare a cup of lemon juice for you." 

As the lady skipped her way to the kitchen, I looked around the house. There were lots of paintings and artworks. There was even a swimming pool in the backyard! Other than that, there was also a room filled of couches, sofas and chairs. 

"Woof! Woof!" 

I turned behind and saw a small white dog, staring at me. It began barking at me and I took a step back. Feeling uncomfortable, I ran off to the kitchen to look for the lady. The dog began chasing me and I tried to run off somewhere. 

As I was reaching the kitchen, I saw the dog getting ready to pounce on me. 

"Layla, are you okay? What's Furball doing with you?" 

I stopped in my tracks. The lady walked out of the kitchen, holding a glass of lemon juice, which I assumed that was mine. 

"I...I'm okay," I replied as the lady carried the dog away from me. "I have a fear of dogs." 

"Oh...I'm so sorry, Layla. I did not know that," the lady apologized profusely. "Here's the lemon juice. If it's too sour for you, I can add some honey." 

"No thanks, I don't need the honey," I thanked the lady as I took the glass of lemon juice from her. I drank it and gulped all the juice down. The lady smiled and looked at me, before walking away with her dog in her arms.

As I finished my lemon juice, I walked to the kitchen counter and placed it there. After that, I ran up to my room to sort out my belongings. Clothes in the cupboard, stationery in the pencil holder, notebooks and paper in the drawer, stuffed toys on the bed, books in the bookshelf.

When I was done putting my items, it was already evening. I could smell the aroma of curry fish head that was coming from the dining table. Once I placed the last stack of books in the bookshelf, I went to the bathroom to shower. I got changed into a pink top with a dark blue skirt. After changing, I hurried down to the dining table. 

"It smells good, sweetheart!" my father exclaimed as he hugged the lady. "It must be your cooking!"

"Yes, yes it is. Come and try my curry fish head! It's my signature dish," she replied, cheeks as red as a tomato. "I'll go get Layla." 

"Layla will come down by herself when she's hungry. She is independent enough, so you do not need to call her," my father told the lady. "Don't worry about her, let's eat first." 

Hearing what my father had said, I ran back to my bedroom and shut the door. I sat down on my bed. Did my father not want me anymore?