Marlie wanted to be home. Not in this house. But at home. Home in New York, in the house she'd lived in her entire life. But no. They had to move. New York was too close to her mom for her dad's liking and he wanted to move them all the way across the country. Not for himself, no. But because his new wife wanted to. His new wife that was less than ten years older than Marlie. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be home.
The new house was a big century home in LA. Her dad liked it because it was so cheap, Jeanette was wary because the last owners had died in it. Marlie hated it because it wasn't home. Maybe hate was a strong word, she didn't it like the idea of it, but the house itself was very cool. It was beautiful but at the same time gave off an aura of mystery.
Same as always, Marlie found herself tucked away in her room while her dad was with a patient downstairs and Jeanette was at some yoga shit. That was the thing, Marlie was always alone. She never had friends, she was picked on. Boys didn't notice her and girls generally disliked her. Her dad liked running his practice out of their home so she was rarely allowed to have friends over, not that there were many to be had. So there she was, sitting on her laptop in a brand new house-- door wide open and music playing quietly. She heard someone then, looking up slightly to see a boy walking past her bedroom. So Marlie called out to him, figuring her was one of her dad's clients that had wandered off.
"I don't think you're allowed up here.."