THE FRIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

June McConnor's POV One. . Two. . Three. . Four. . And so on. There are at least seven cattles scattered around the meadow area, it was been watched over by the sheperd, with his straw hat on his head and a thick red scarf wrapped around his neck; to keep himself warm. The cold temperature kicks in slowly by slowly in the early December day. After graduating in 12th grade and finally got my diploma, a letter with a rose stamp came at my doorstep last two days ago--it was from my long maternal aunt; she offered me to moved in with her in her hometown. Margaretha McConnor, my aunt, was the last member in my family. She spent her whole life living in Astroville and never moved to anywhere but that small town, in fact, she and her younger brother grew up in there. But he decided to move out, go to collage, and start his own life. Like a wolf leaving its own pack. The stench of cigars and beer sniffles through my nose, its like my stomach was about to do a backflip. Surely, teens around my age can go through smoking, drinking, and nibble on drugs as if that was their thing like adults have. And I'm in the middle of it. As the smoke from these cigars and beers hit me, I start to feel like I'll be sick all over again. I don't know whether I can handle this much alcohol. "Do you live around here kiddo?" Said the car truck driver, his racoon-like hat tail swinging from left to right. His breath smells terrible, I thought as he took a drag from one of his cigars. He had an odd tattoo on his right eye. It looked suspiciously like the letter 'U' with some writing next to it, which I think is a joke or something. The man's name tag reads, "Stanley." I don't really reply back to his question. But I got to keep it cool since I aksed him for a ride to my new hometown, "About to, I was just moving in with my aunt just now," I respond. We drive past a few houses until we reached right in front of a small bodega, where he parks the truck in a small parking lot. He opens the door so I could get out, "Here you go kid." He handed me my bag, which was full. After that, I bid him a thank you as he hopped in to the driver's seat, start his engine, and drove off from the dirt road. After watching the truck dissapear to the accumulation of dust in the distance, I turned around with my luggage grasping in my hands and stare oddly at the sign hanging on top of the rooftop. It reads: Margaretha's Bodega The place is a bit rundown but it looked cozy enough. Maybe this will be my new home. I pushed open the glass door, which made a little bell ring, and walked right straight in. The store had an old fashioned look to it; everything was clean, neat, and organized. There were shelves lining every wall, filled with different types of canned foods and some fresh produce. "I'll be right with you," came a man's deep voice from the back room. A woman with blonde hair sighed as she put up her casual smile, "I just need to grab something real quick." She said before disappearing into one of the many doors leading out of the small shop. A moment later I hear a woman yell, "Buckaroo! Stop messing with that damn car!" The door behind me opened up again to reveal a woman with black hair and grey streaks holding a large box. "Sorry, ma'am." Apologized the man. The woman grumbled some words under her breath as she passed over me and dropped some few boxes on the counter. Her white apron is all rust and covered with dirt, its like she wrestled warthogs on mud. Her exasperating look reminded me of someone. The woman groaned and she yelled some words--I somewhat don't understand--at the employees from the backroom. "Oh my God, why do I hired you slack of bones!" she yelled, trying to restrain her temper. "Now, who might you be? If you came here for buying one of your girl scouts cookies, I'm lactose intolorent." She stated, turning to face me. Her eyes widen when they met mine, making me wonder if she recognized me. Maybe she saw me walk inside and recognized me as a customer and thought I would need help? But why does girl scout cookies have to do with anything? She then continued, "But if you're here to buy candy, I have no idea how you'd get any of these. They are so sweetened up that they are nearly tasteless." She finished in a huff. "Now let's take care of those boxes first, hmm?" She carried on opening the boxes and brought out a few canned products. I waved my hand in the air, telling her that I did not came here for some tasteless candies or what. "No, no! I'm here because..." I paused for a second. She raised an eyebrow at me, not showing an quizzed look or telling me to go on but more like decieving. "I'm your neice, I recieved your letter that you sent it to me two days ago."