Chapter 3

"Mom!" Zamora shouted from her room. "Have you seen my earphone?"

There was no response.

"Mom!" Her voice grew louder and more aggressive as she trashed her neatly kept room. Not only was her earphone missing so was her most precious diary. This made her boil with rage.

"Zamora quit shouting in the house. It's very inappropriate for a lady to be vulgar." Her mom scolded as she entered her room.

"I need my earphone now!" She could have simply bought a new one but she refused to do so since her best friend gave it to her before she left for Australia.

"Grow up Zamora. You are not a child anymore!" Her voice was not gentle as she spoke.

"You barge into my room and invaded my privacy. How exactly am I supposed to behave?" She folded her arms across her chest and sulked. "I need my diary as well I know you have it stashed away somewhere."

"Until you act mature and civilized there is no way in hell you are getting either of them back."

She bawled her tiny fist and scuffed. "What kind of mother are you exactly? Punishing me for something I do not know of."

She was too upset to think about what she was saying to her mother. Her mind was fogged and her heart burned bitterly. She was almost brought to tears thus she struggled to hold them back from spilling. It was very much unlike her to shout at her mother but lately, she had a lot on her plate. Besides, the earphone was special to her, which was mainly the reason she refused to retrieve a new one. But what got her upset was her missing diary and she knew it was not her younger siblings' doings. Zamora was secretive and rebellious thus she despised people with sticky fingers. She strongly opposed the invasion Of privacy and her mother did just that. Besides as an adult, she was expected to set proper examples. She wasn't teaching her son proper deportment but Zamora rather her younger sibling imaging through her stuff. Not that she wouldn't be mad about it but she would also understand his doings. Children were curious thus touching eased his curiosity. The thought of her mother's sticky fingers flipping through her diary pages and filling her dark brown orbs only stirred up anger within her.

"Don't speak to me in that tone young lady." Her mom wiggled her index finger, her stern voice inflicting fear on Zamora.

Her cheeks turned a dark shade of red when she remembered who she was dealing with. Her mother could be scary sometimes and pissing her off would worsen her sullen mood since she was already giving her the creeps. Her eyes welled with tears by just thinking about the diary and earphones. The earphone was the only memory she had of her best friend. It was her only source of distraction. Not to mention her diary which was used to express her true feelings which she masked away from the world.

"Please mom I need them." She tried pleading but she knew it was all in vain. Her mom reminded her of an unmoving stone. She didn't know why though, maybe it was because she was hard when it came to punishment and very hard to convince when it came to her. Maybe it was because of her gender because her brother received an entirely different treatment. The young child was pampered with more love and affection not to mention the ridiculous amount of time spent with him instead of her.

Zamora opened her mouth to speak but the eyes she received made her close her mouth faster than she opened them. "What you did last week was unacceptable and for that, I have to punish you."

"Mom you of all people know what he did!"

"That didn't give you the privilege to push him! He could have seriously injured himself or worst."

Things were starting to clear up for Zamora thus she understood why her mother stashed away her diary and earphone. It was a sort of punishment but indeed a stupid one. She could easily purchase a new diary and earphones. A normal mother would also take her phone which was sort of puzzling. Maybe it was because it was entirely out of her reach.

"For the last time, I did not push him." She was starting to become irritated as the moment went by. " I found him going through my stuff and he looked upset. I asked him what had happened at school but he only stormed out of my room without an answer. Moments later I discovered my piggy bank was nowhere to be seen and neither was cole."

She wasn't lying about her brother's incident but she still wasn't giving her mother the full details of what happened on that day. Only she was aware of the dilemma he faced at school. She only discovered it a few weeks ago but cole made her swear she wouldn't bring the problem to their parents. She was worried about his wellbeing and she knew how bullying could affect a person's mental health because she was also a victim. This also made her feel as if she was fully responsible for what happened to her brother thus she felt guilty for not trying to protect him.

Her mother laughed bitterly. "Now you are accusing my son of stealing. He's just a kid what exactly will he do with the money?"

Indeed cole was a six-year-old child but a very smart and sensible one. He was way smarter than an average teenager which led him to be their aunt and uncle's favorite. Zamora didn't mind being the least favorite child but she could sense the tension in the room whenever she walked in. They weren't very much fond of her and she sensed it was way past just knowledge. She couldn't pinpoint it though so she didn't bother to think about it. That was the least of her mountain of problems.

She felt stupid for giving her mother the impression she would hurt her child because he stole her piggy bank. Zamora adored cole and would never harm him neither physically nor emotionally. But her mother thought differently of her. She indeed had anger issues but those anger would be inflicted on her pillow at night not a six-year-old kid.

"You hurt a child because of a piggy bank that can be replaced." Zamora could feel the anger radiating from the woman but she was good at concealing them. " I'm starting to think this is more than just about a piggy bank. Are you having a hard time at school or is this out of jealousy?"

'Jealousy?' She thought why would she be jealous of a child. She took in a sharp breath but she never opened her mouth to speak. Knowing her words would not be pleasant.

"I love the both of you dearly but I have no other choice but to let you undergo counseling. And I'm taking your phone." She stretched her hands out to receive the phone which Zamora handed up without hesitation.

"But mom!" She wined.

"Get ready for school we are not having this conversation right now." She said before leaving the room shutting the door behind her.

Because of one big fat lie, she had to face the consequence of losing the things that bought her comfort. What was, even more, alarming her diary was in the hands of her nosy mother. She wasn't entirely innocent but at least she didn't harm her bother in any way. She scurried around her room trying her best to get ready for school before her angry mom returned. She tugged on baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt and pared at herself in the mirror through her oversized spectacles. Feeling pleased with her appearance she went down the stairs allowing her nose to lead her to the kitchen. Her stomach rolled like an angry lion as the aroma of cookies filled her nostrils making her mouth water. She picked up a cookie from the mountain high amount that was placed neatly on the island.

She took a huge bite and savored the delicious treat. Her mom scurried around the kitchen on the ball of her feet. She furrowed her eyebrows. Her mother was an excellent cook but she couldn't remember the last time she baked. She would have left for work already maybe she was expecting someone. Zamora's eyes lit up with a tiny bit of hope. But what was she hoping to happen? Her dad wasn't due until a few days. Could it be him? she thought. She took another huge bite of the cookie before stretched her hands to pick up another but to her disappointment, she received a smack on the back of her hands from a spatula.

"Ouch!" She yelped nursing her burning hand. "What's the occasion?"

"We have neighbors!" She squeaked excitedly.

"Mom we always have neighbors." Zamora chuckled.

"Zamora I mean new neighbors."

"That's strange." She knitted her brows. Their previous neighbors were her best friend's family and they never mentioned selling the house and neither did they put up any signs saying the house was on sale. She found it rather odd because her best friend left the day before and it was only a day after did someone new decide to move in.

"I was up all of last night and I didn't hear anyone leave and enter that house."

"Maybe they were extra quiet or something." She didn't know how to ease her daughter's curiosity. Zamora wasn't wrong indeed she was quite correct. The two houses were rather close together and were separated by a peach tree that towered over both houses.

"Are you even sure anyone lives there? Someone can't move in without us being aware of it mom. Besides, I didn't hear any moving truck outside."

"Of course I'm sure. I saw a young woman who seemed to be in her early twenties checking the mailbox."

Zamora didn't bother to press the matter. Her mother handed her a basket filled with cookies. "This could be a great opportunity for you to make new friends. Deliver this for me. I hope they enjoy them." She giggled Zamora noticed she was kind of nervous.

She rolled her eyes at her mother's way of making an impression on her new creepy neighbors. She didn't protest but obliged to her mother's request trying to keep a calm composure. Inside she was a bit shaken up, she could feel her body trembling slowly, not knowing what would greet her at the front door.

"Zamora." Her mom called after her as she entered the veranda.

"Be nice. please don't make me look bad."

Zamora nodded before striding towards the house which once belonged to her best friend. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she approached the house. The atmosphere changed a bit which she found buzzard and she could feel the temperature plummet as she approach the house. The house was silent. Too silent to her liking. The silence was deafening and she longed to hear the slightest of sound. She used her feet as a form of distraction. Her legs wobbled as they approached the walkway of the house. She didn't know what or who would greet her at the front door or maybe no one would greet her at all. The squeaky wooded steps made her feel unease and her stomach twisted in knots. Her feet came to a halt in front of the old wooden door. She lifted her hands to knock but they stopped in midair. She couldn't summon the courage to knock. Her heartbeat was defining and her hands shook involuntarily. Her palm became sweaty and clammy.

"Not now Zamora." She said to herself. She could easily leave the cookies at the doorstep and lie to her mother about it. But knowing the terrible liar she was her mom would figure out what she did within seconds. She inhaled a sharp breath before knocking on the wooden door. There were no footsteps or any form of shuffling on the other side. the house was too quiet for anyone to live there. She knocked a few more times before she decided to leave.

" This is hilarious." She shook her head. She felt as if her heart had leaped into her throat when she looked up. She didn't hear the doors open nor did she hear any footsteps. The ear froze in her lungs and her spectacles slipped down the bridge of her nose. Her mouth fell open almost touching the floor.

One pair of green eyes stared back at her with distaste and a frown evident on his flawless stone face. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and closed her gaping mouth. Her cheeks reddened from humiliation. She made a complete fool of herself by looking like a fish out of water. He probably thought she was a freak. She would scold herself about it later on. She handed him the basket of cookies before scurrying off faster than she did earlier.

"Who was that?"

"I have no idea." He chuckled as he watched the girl leave with great interest and the corner of his lips lifted into a smirk.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding as she entered the kitchen where her mother was loitering hastily feedback from the new neighbors about her cooking skills.

"Does she live alone? Who else lives there? What did they say? Did they like the cookies? Did they taste it in front of you?"

Zamora stared at her mom with wide eyes and her hands shaking violently.

"Sorry." Her mom gave an apologetic smile.

She slumped on the stool resting her head against the island. "Thank you mom for making me the biggest freak this neighborhood has to offer."

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"Bye, mom." She waved as she closed the car door. She turned on her heels to face the building that towered over her. The front displays Galimore High. Her smile fell it was only another day in hell without her best friend by her side. Not that she didn't have anyone to speak to. She considered them as acquaintances. As she entered the hallway she was greeted by the hallways which were crowded with students. She sliced through the crowd like a knife until she found her locker that was spray-painted with the word looser written boldly. She opened her locker and braced herself for the humiliation but nothing besides her book was concealed inside. She released a breath before gathering her heavy textbooks in her arms and closed her locker.

She was practically at her classroom door when she lost balance and her head collided with the marvel tiles. Pain exploded throughout her entire body. She looked up and was greeted by two tanned legs that belonged to none other than her bully Rebecca.

"Oops!" She smirked before striding away with her two loyal sidekicks trailing behind.

The entire hallway cracked up pointing fingers in her direction. Her cheeks turned a deep shape of red. She managed to gather herself from the floor despite the humiliation. Tears brimmed in her hazel eyes but she had to be strong not because it was expected of her. But because she would look like a complete idiot. She picked up herself and headed straight to the restroom and cried silently.