New LIfe

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All of my personal belongings had been packed in large brown cardboard boxes and I wouldn’t see them until we had traveled to a new home in Papillion Nebraska. The movers were three muscular men that I am sure just tossed all of my material possessions into the stationary cabinets with no real care at all. The movers had seen everything about me from what I wore to school, to the deep secretive thoughts that I wrote in my diary. I felt violated. I didn’t want to leave the white brick home with the four giant columns that held the house in place. I didn’t want to leave the place where I grew up and made most of my childhood memories. I can’t forget about the people that meant the most to me, my best friends, my neighbors and teachers. My life was put into these cardboard boxes in the matter of two hours. It was time for my last fearful good-byes and start the journey to begin my new life. I regretfully heaved my semi-petit body into the red minivan with my family. My father slowly drove away from the place where I left my home and my heart. Even though we were in the van I could see the tears in Veronica’s eyes as we drove down her street for the final time and I could feel my own hot, wet tears running down my face that was red with sadness. I gave Veronica a pitiful wave with a flick of my wrist and whispered goodbye. My chest was heavy from the constant sobbing of my broken heart. I let out a silent wail and with that came the violent coughing. My lungs where trying to process air that I wasn’t giving them and the effect was the long gasps of air as I tried to regain my composure. We turned the corner onto Wesley Street and I knew that it would be the last time that I would see her for a many months and possible many years. It was a torturous seven hours on the highway through the middle of nowhere Missouri. When we had finally reached our finally destination of Papillion Nebraska I felt so much hatred toward everything in Nebraska. Driving up to the uninviting gray two-story house with the slopped driveway the feeling of sorrow engulfed my body. I knew that this would be my new house until it was time for me to go to college. The dark dreary house wasn’t so bad until I drug myself up to my new bedroom. The soft pink sponge painted walls and ballerina wallpaper didn’t appeal to me very much, nor did the size of the room. I was 10 years younger just standing in that room. It appeared much smaller then my old room, which made me cry. I thought of how amazing it was that matter of two feet in a bedroom can make such a large difference, but it does. I cried about everything, moving during my last two years of high school, leaving my friend and everything that I knew and loved. Every end starts a new beginning and I guess that my time came early in my life. Even though I am only young it was quite a time for me to move with only two years of high school for me to finish. Everybody has their friends and habits so I knew that I would have to compete with all of the high school cliques. I was the new girl with short brown hair and hot pink painted toenails with the prissy Illinois girl attitude. I had to break from my old stubborn ways and mold to form the great unique person that I am today. Time heals all wounds, and I am adjusting to all the new changes I had to make in my life. Every time I look at my dark gray house now, I am ok with it; the depressing sorrows don’t haunt me. I look at my house with the joy and respect that I live here and it is my new home, it is no longer just my house. I welcome new changes in my life as I welcome my friends with a giant hug at the front door. Everything happens for a reason and one can only take things as they come.


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