Moving Day

Hi I am pearl. I am thirteen. And my parents are seriously ruining my life! They are making me move! Again? This is the fourth time this year. And it's only September! I had finally gotten done settling down and started meeting new friends. With my new social butterfly bestie, making friends wasn't difficult. But of course we moved. My dad needs work. My dad is in the military and my mom is a part time everything. Cashier, waitress, she was once even a mechanics assistant! With her it isn't a problem getting work I guess. My grandparents call her a chameleon. But seriously I don't get it. Why can't mom stay with me and dad go to work? I don't like moving all around the place. "Its doesn't get any easier." My mom always says. Sad but true. Because it definitely should! Anyways enough with the QNA. I don't want to run out of pages in this thing. "Ok we are here!" We pulled up to a apartment building. Not lavish but that's what we get. "When will dad be here?" I ask while getting out of the car that has lasted us ages. "Soon hopefully." She sighed and took a step out of the vehicle and helped get our boxes it of the back. The boxes looked old and had marked out words on them. I reached over and picked up the one that read "kitchen utensils" next to the box that said "photos of baby pearl". I looked over to my mom. I know she was tired. Actually tired was an understatement. She looked exhausted. Mom was probably sad, missing dad, and tired of moving as well. "Ok. Let's check in." We put down the boxes for a moment. My mom walked to front door, had a talk with what I am guess is the owner, and smiled at me with a key in hand. "Are they going to help us with the boxes like the people did in down in Virginia?" I asked while heading towards the elavator. "Don't hold your breath." She said.