Prologue

I hate it when Aunt Cassandra drives. Her jeweled fingers are always all over the place, spinning the driving wheel and slamming brakes unnecessarily. Each time feels like the last day for me. She is definitely good at over-speeding, unnecessarily overtaking and getting away with it. And she always hums to Justin Bieber's songs, and by 'hums' I mean concert style, her baby pink lipstick leaving footprints on every high and low note. It is as if she's always compelled to drive REAL fast as if the roads will fall apart anytime soon. And I hate that she always laughs like a maniac gorilla whenever I jump in my seat as she skids down the road. Honestly, seatbelts don't even stand up against her.

This time, we are driving to her place, a cozy little Victorian mansion on the outskirts of town. Last time I checked, it was an exact replica of the cast in George of the Jungle. It is going to be my so-called new home, and oh, I'm so looking forward to it.

Kidding.She's one of those overly sweet aunts that put on too much make up, fake lashes pacing back and forth in a SOS motion, and man does she love jewelry. Nose rings, neck chains, rings, rings, rings. Hair pins (ornamental), bracelets, rings, rings, rings. She is somehow an equivalent of some type of jewelry zoo. When I say she sparkles, I never am sarcastic about it.

It hurts me that I have never dreamed of staying under the same roof as her until my Pappa passed away. That was last year. The thing that sucks about it is that he had just wiped our family account clean cause of his debts and the family business had burnt down. In other words, he left us bankrupt. Due to that, here I am riding shotgun with the worst aunt in the world.

The thing that sucks about it is that right after, Mom got fired from her job as a waitress. We were devastated. I should say I am the most unfortunate kid in the world, because two years ago, my big brother Juan had been arrested (arson) and my little brother had gone missing. By gone missing, I don't mean the regular gone missing you're used to. He had disappeared. Into thin air. Okay, that's a bit of exaggeration but that's the thing.

 Right after, my body decided to add colour to the chaos by terminating my anatomy and introducing a cute little condition called Multiple Sclerosis, which needed tons of dollars for the treatment. It was a big blow to Mom, and she died of a broken heart. (Add a sob to that). Yes, my mom got stressed and died of that.

Which left me an orphan. I was in my second year at college by then. Sucks, huh?

That is why, at this late hour, when the sun has set and the world is going to sleep, Aunt Cassandra has kidnapped me from my home and is taking me to hers. I'm forced to breathe Lavender plus Rose and the new Play Girl- seductive perfumes and I might as well suffocate and die of the sweetness. Her old black Lincoln Continental's engine is busy groaning in the background, and cold air is seeping through the air conditioner. The painful squeaks of her voice are making it hard to distinguish between the hand-me-down car she owns and herself, and I guess both she and her car need servicing. Frankly, I am grateful, which is hard to admit, that someone is willing to cover for my expenses, take care of me like her own, and all that, but I'm not looking forward to this. It gives me mixed emotions to imagine spending the rest of eternity with Aunt Cassandra,

So, we ride down the road, and I silently listen to her terrific hums and absently peer into the dusk, looking at the darkening world around me, missing my mother and wishing this was a dream.

Disclaimer: it's not a dream.

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