I trudged upstairs, my feet heavy with frustration. Why did we have to move? Why did my parents have to ruin my life like this?
"Emmy, honey, come down and talk to us!" my mom called out from the kitchen.
I sighed and reluctantly made my way downstairs. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table, looking all cheerful and excited. I, on the other hand, was fuming.
"Hey, sweetie, we know this move is hard on you," my dad said, trying to sound sympathetic. "But it's a great opportunity for us. Your mom got a promotion, and we'll be able to afford a bigger house."
"I don't care about a bigger house!" I snapped. "I care about my friends, my school, my life. You're just ripping me away from everything I know and love."
My mom reached out and put a hand on my arm. "We know it's hard, Emmy. But we'll make new friends, and you'll make new memories. It'll be an adventure."
I jerked my arm away. "An adventure? You think being the new kid in school is an adventure? You think being bullied and ostracized is fun?"
My dad frowned. "Emmy, we've talked about this. We're moving to a new town, a new school. It's a fresh start. You can leave all the drama and stress behind."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered. "You're not the one who has to deal with it."
My mom sighed. "Emmy, we're trying to do what's best for this family. Can't you just try to see the positive side?"
I rolled my eyes. "The positive side? You mean the side where I get to be a loner and an outcast? No thanks."
My dad stood up. "Emmy, that's enough. We understand you're upset, but we're not going to discuss this anymore. We've made our decision, and we're moving."
I glared at him, feeling a surge of anger and resentment. Why couldn't they just listen to me for once? Why couldn't they just understand how I felt?
I turned and stormed back upstairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me. I flopped onto my bed, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Why did this have to happen to me? Why did my parents have to ruin my life like this?
As I lay there, feeling sorry for myself, I heard my mom's voice outside my door.
"Emmy, honey, we love you. We're doing this for us, for our family. Please try to understand."
I didn't respond. I just lay there, feeling angry and hurt and alone.
The next morning, I woke up feeling a little better. Maybe it was the sleep, or maybe it was the realization that I couldn't change my parents' minds.
As I got dressed and ready for the day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked...different. My eyes seemed darker, my expression more sulky.
I sighed and shook my head. I didn't want to be this person. I didn't want to be angry and resentful all the time.
But as I headed downstairs to face my parents and the reality of our move, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get worse.