[b]”Yes moma, I got everything,”[/b] Dixie said in her thick southern accent. She was in a taxi, talking to Farrah on the phone. Though Farrah wasn’t exactly her mom, legally she could be called such, and Dixie had taken to calling her ‘mom’ not too long after the adoption was completed. [b]”Well, it’s big,”[/b] she said in response to her mother asking about the city. The shy girl used her free hand not holding the phone to play with the hem of her [url= http://images0.chictopia.com/photos/my_name_is_zoe/2176177594/white-vintage-dress-brown-faded-glory-belt-brown-boots-brown-dooney-and-bo_400.jpg]dress[/url], cowboy boots shifting against the dirty floor board mats beneath them. She cleared her throat, looking out the dingy window, soft, unsure gaze in her chocolate brown eyes while taking in her new city. Her new home of sorts. It certainly wasn’t the town of 1500 in Tennessee she was used to. 

[b]”Almost there,”[/b] said her driver in a voice that sounded like it had been roughened by years of tobacco clawing at his vocal chords. 

[b]”Thank ya,”[/b] she said in a tone higher pitched than what she spoke to her mother in, her voice rising whenever she was uncomfortable. Looking down at her lap again, she heard her mom ask if she was listening. [b]”Sorry moma, I got distracted. Look, I’m almost ta my new… home I think. So I oughta go. I’m sawrry,”[/b] she said, swallowing hard as she hoped she didn’t offend Farrah. Her mother said she understood though and that she loved her before telling her to call when she could and hanging up. Dixie said goodbye and hung up, quickly shoving the phone into one of her bags that sat next to her. She lifted a hand to her lips, chewing her thumb nail between her teeth, and letting her slightly wavy brown hair fall into her face. The best thing about long hair was letting it hide you in her opinion.

[b]”Here,”[/b] said the same gruff voice, pulling up to one of the biggest homes Dixie had ever seen. 

[b]”Wow… I get ta live here?”[/b] she whispered, overwhelmed a bit as the driver ignored her and got out, going for her bags to help increase his tip. Dixie was too shy to ask him not to, as the grease on his fingers that he’d used to wipe his nose during the trip did not appeal to her touching her things, so she just looked downwards and got out without a word. 

The driver set her bags on the steps of the mansion and mumbled her fare, causing Dixie to look through her purse in a flustered fashion. [b]”A course, um…,”[/b] she pulled out the fare plus a $10, handing it to him, unsure if that was right. He seemed pleased though, pocketing the cash and walking off back to his vehicle. She watched him for a moment, eyes wide and curious as to what she should do next. Now she was here she supposed. So… knock? Ring a doorbell? Yes, that would be the polite thing to do. 

Clearing her throat once again, Dixie approached the front door and began searching all around it for a button to push. Ah! There was one. She let her finger hover in front of it for several seconds before pushing it inward, jumping noticeably at the bell sound that rang out. She took a few steps backwards and tripped over her belongings, sliding back down the steps and landing on her rear on the drive. She turned beet red , sitting with her legs in a V in front of her and hands having skidded and caught herself from behind, leaving her looking rather silly. She scrambled to right herself, thinking of the humiliation if anyone had possibly seen her spill. Though the few scratches on her palms and a dirt streak on the side of her dress bespoke of a fall either way.