Chapter One

Welcome to Blackridge.

Home of Cemetery Hill High. A perfectly normal town, provided you don’t ask any questions.

Blackridge Population 8,613 Living population…much less…

“Mom, are you sure you can’t stay?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the fields we were passing, secretly hoping I’d see more cows.

She sighed, zero attempt at hiding her disdain. “Faye, we’ve discussed this.”

“No,” I muttered under my breath at the window. “You simply said, life is complicated right now, I’m taking you to live with your grandmother…whom I haven’t seen since I was five.”

My mom tightened her grip on the steering wheel and clenched her jaw together. “It is what it is. I am doing my best.”

I swallowed down my disappointment. It truly wasn’t my intention to make her feel any worse. I knew she was trying, and I knew that things just weren’t going our way…they never seemed to go our way. If I believed in the supernatural, I would say that our family is cursed.

“I’m sure you will like it here,” she said trying to break the tension in the car. “Alice is really nice; she will look out for you.”

“Alice?” I repeated.

“Grammie, sorry. I’m just nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been back here, it brings back memories.”

“You know, I don’t think I knew her name was Alice. I’ve only ever heard anyone call her Grammie.”

My mom smiled, something I don’t think I’ve seen her do in years. “She’s been Grammie since I was in school, I don’t really know why, I guess she has just always had that safe, home, warm, grandma energy.”

“That is something I remember,” I agreed. I remembered the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, her huge purple house, and that everything always smelled like flowers.

We turned onto south main, and passed the Blackridge Market, “You know, this is where I met your dad.”

“Really?” I looked at the old concrete building, with all the sale ads taped crookedly onto the windows that lined the front of the store.

“Yup. I mean I kind of knew him from school, but freshman year of high school we both worked there. I was a cashier, and he stocked the shelves.”

Before turning onto Maple Street, we waited for a group of teenagers to cross the street, they looked to be about my age, a girl with burgundy hair was very curious about our old pick-up truck.

“This…Maybe…I just hope…” My mother’s tone changed as she struggled to find the words she wanted to say to me. “This will be the fresh start that you need. A stable home. School. Friends.”

Our eyes met as we came to a stop in Grammie’s driveway. I nodded, too afraid that if I opened my mouth I would start to cry again.

“This wasn’t my first choice, hell it wasn’t in my top ten…but it is the best choice for you…and as a mom, as your mom,” she said cupping my face in her hand, “I have to make it.”

I put my hand on top of hers, not knowing when I would see her next. “I know. I will be right here when you get back. I promise.”

She forced a smile, and as much as I wished it was genuine, I accepted it for what it was—Her attempt at comforting me: something she has never been quite good at.

“There she is,” My mother nodded between the oversized hanging baskets that were literally exploding with flowers.

I looked away from my mother’s face and followed her gaze, she was right, she was there waiting for me just as she said she would be. I whispered, so she wouldn’t hear me, “I think she’s gotten even shorter.”

My mother started to laugh before turning her head quickly to the driveway we’d just driven up, and then froze, her mouth still open.

I looked around, sure I was going to see big foot or something terrifying, but there was nothing but an overabundance of flowers and strange plants. “Is everything—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. I’m going to be late,” she said rubbing her face with her hands. “Can you handle your bags?”

“Penny,” Grammie said as she stood on her tip toes to see into my truck window. “Are you at least staying for dinner?”

My mom looked back at the driveway, before sliding the truck into reverse, and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really can’t stay here.”

I turned and wrapped her into a hug, squeezing her rigid body as tight as I could, whispering before I kissed her cheek, “I love you.”

I tossed my two bags onto the porch steps as I watched her drive away. Grammie put her arm around my shoulders, “She will be back dear, she just needs time.”

A tear silently slid down my cheek as the truck sped away down the street. “I know,” I whispered back. This was a hard truth I had discovered years ago, while I was only 15 now, for as long as I could remember my mom processed life differently. I knew with every fiber of my being that she loved me, and that she would do anything for me, but surface level from the outside I’m sure it looked like she just hated everyone, including me.

“Well, you guys haven’t been around for a while, but the last time that I spoke to your father he was asking for my meatloaf recipe and said that you were demanding that he made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and brown gravy to drown it in.”

My stomach twisted and growled rejecting what remained two-dollar gas station hot dog I ate for breakfast. “That is my favorite!”

“I made plenty, let’s go eat.”

I looked around one more time, secretly hoping that my mom had changed her mind at the stop sign and flipped a U-turn to come back and take me with her. Something caught my eye as I started to turn, but when I looked back it dissipated like a fleeting puff of smoke or fog. Shaking my head I chalked it up to tired eyes from the long trip, we had driven pretty much through the night, minus the hour or so nap we took when we crossed into Ohio.

The house was still purple, although the years had faded it into something softer, somewhere between lavender and gray. Cream-colored trim wrapped around windows that seemed to cover every inch of the place, and the porch stretched around the side of the house until it disappeared behind a wall of flowers.

There were plants everywhere.

Hanging from the porch.