Chapter 1.1 - You Gotta Move

Note: This story is relatively tame for the first Chapter (1.1 - 1.12) except for some swearing but will take on adult themes as the story progresses.

Quinn tapped her hands restlessly against her thighs and muttered curses as she waited for Joe. She was beginning to feel a bit conspicuous standing on the side of the street with her old dresser. To the people in the cars passing by, it probably looked as though she was having a bitter conversation with a piece of furniture.

She didn't actually know Joe. In fact, she couldn't even remember if that was his name. When it didn't sell at the estate sale, she had placed her old dresser for sale on Craigslist and Joe was the first guy to call. She had just finished renaming him Late Joe since she had been standing outside for almost half an hour, when a car screeched to a halt in front of her and a burly blond man hopped out.

"Hey!" he called out as he jogged affably up the drive. "You Quinn?"

"Yep. That would be me" she replied, hoping that this transaction would be over soon so she could finally close this chapter of her life. "So...fifty dollars and it's all yours!" Quinn tried unsuccessfully to force her lips to curl up in to a smile. All she needed was some jazz hands and a red rubber nose and she might have looked like a sad clown.

"Fifty! Ah, I don't know" Late Joe said, tossing a look at the dresser. "It's a little older than it looked online." 

Quinn sighed inwardly. So he was one of those Joes, she thought with pure exasperation. "Look, you're already here and I'm in no mood to bargain. Forty-five dollars or I give it to charity."
 
Late Joe's eyes widened a bit and she realized that some of the raw emotion she had been stuffing down for far too long was finally pushing its way to the surface. And while she was trying to sell a dresser to a stranger, no less. In any case, Late Joe tugged at the back of his pants, retrieved his wallet and silently (and somewhat nervously, Quinn thought) counted out two twenties and a five. 

Her smile this time was a little more genuine but the bulky blond man was too busy pushing his new dresser down the driveway and loading it in to his car to notice. 

Quinn's stomach gurgled. Soup, she thought, as she headed back in to the small, two bedroom home she had once shared with her parents. 

She knew she was depressed. Even if Madeline, her therapist, hadn't told her, it was...well, depressingly obvious. She had wafted aimlessly around Sunset Valley for two months after her mother's death. She'd quit her job at the coffee shop on a whim and settled in to a routine that included playing chess with the old men in the park and then falling asleep by 9:PM. 

Madeline had encouraged her to grieve. And I tried, I really did, she thought fiercely as she swallowed a spoonful of soup. But Quinn's relationship with her mother had been volatile for her entire life. Greater than the feeling of grief was one of guilt, because more than anything, she was relieved at her mother's passing. And so she ate her soup and tried not to notice that it was the same colour as the peeling wallpaper in the kitchen.

At least she wouldn't have to look at this kitchen or this house ever again, starting tomorrow morning. The tiny house had been sold a few months prior and all that was left to do was sign the papers and leave them for the estate agent.

Quinn sighed as she stood up and slowly washed her bowl. That was the thing about depression - everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. And there was a lot of sighing.

She scowled as she picked up the sheaf of papers and began to quickly sign her name to the highlighted sections. 

Madeline had told her that underneath all her depression was anger; anger from a lifetime of abuse and neglect that Quinn was directing at herself because it felt safer to do that than to confront her mother. And now, of course, it was too late. And that just made her feel more angry and more guilty. It was like she had been stuck on a hamster wheel of guilt and shame and anger and there was no way off. 

Except now there was. Or rather, there might be. Once the house had sold Quinn made the decision to leave Sunset Valley and never look back. She didn't know where she would end up in the end, but she had a plan for now - college. The prestigious Hearst College to be exact.

Quinn threw her long hair up in a bun and changed for bed. She winced as she pulled her leggings up over her hips. She had done the lion's share of the packing (with a little help from her neighbour George) but as small as the house was, her father had been a bit of a hoarder and getting rid of his old junk in the garage had been painful in more ways than one. 

As she eased herself slowly over towards the side of the bed, it began to sink in that the worst was truly over. Quinn was only 20 years old and she still had her whole life ahead of her. Sure, she would be a year or two older than many of her college peers but as Madeline was always reminding her, wisdom came from experience, not age. And after all, she had gotten early acceptance in to the fine arts program at Hearst which was an honour all on its own. There was a chance that her dream of becoming a photographer might actually come true.

She took a slow deep breath and thought of all the good things that could happen. Madeline had always reminded Quinn that all of her positive qualities far outweighed the negative feelings she had grown up with - that she had the potential to be whatever or whomever she chose to be. Quinn Hudson! Professional happy person! she thought sleepily.

She really owed a lot to Madeline. Although she was always professional with Quinn, they had formed a special bond and the support and encouragement she had offered Quinn had kept her moving forward, even when she had been tempted to lose her shit completely. 

Madeline constantly found ways to remind Quinn that despite her upbringing, she was smart, creative, funny and a worthwhile human being. Quinn kept those thoughts in her head as she finally drifted off to sleep.