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Moving in. Stack of cardboard boxes in the empty room with copy space

Sophie Rakita, Writer

A cardboard box. Another. Another. Another. They seem to be everywhere. I feel weighed down by the reality of brown squares taking up the once furnished house. In the backyard, a large truck attached to my house, hauling away my childhood.

Several months earlier, I was having a sleepover with my friend Kaelyn. My parents called me into my kitchen, and they said,” We have something to tell you.” I honestly didn’t know what to expect, but I felt my insides crawl with pressure after they told me and my brother the news. I acknowledged their statement and fled back to my now-departed room. As soon as I sat down, I felt the burn in my throat and tried to express what I had just been told to my confused friend. All that came out was a struggle for words. Confusion swirled in my head, and tears streamed down my once blank face. I was a mess.

Looking back on it now, it is almost humorous when you think about it. See, me and Kaelyn had only recently met at that time, and it was our first sleepover. We’re still besties, and I find that a little ironic.

Over those next few months, I battled with my new future. Far from orchestra, friends, and more, it was difficult to believe I could make a life as good as I had. When I would share these concerns with my mom, she didn’t seem to understand how deep it cut. Sobs after sobs shattering any plans I had made for my future.

If you didn’t know, things seem much more dramatic when you’re a teen. This, of course, is true in this scenario. Just look at all those chick flicks and Avril Lavigne songs. If they don’t represent teen girl angst, I don’t know what does. Now, imagine those traits in a 12-year-old going on 13 years of age girl leaving what she loves.

After the shock, I dealt with the actual moving. You see, getting to a real situation was complicated. At first, we were in the hotel for a bit. It had an odd smell and a weird feeling. My brother and I were in one room, and my parents were in another. But at least it had a pool. My several nights In the hotel were pretty fun. I met this girl Summer, and we went to cracker barrel and a museum that we could walk to. She smoked cigarettes in her grandpa’s bathroom and maybe stole my mom’s shoes. She was definitely an interesting person. PS she was interested in me. I thought that was an interesting detail. Aside from hotel girl, my stay at (hotel) had a couple other things to offer. I got access to a pool and spent some quality time with my brother since it was just us.

Closing time. These words usually mean that some establishments lock their doors until the next day. In my case, it told me that I was headed for my next stop. Said building was quite a sight. I knew my parents bought a fixer-upper when it had wood panel walls and a hairwashing sink. For the next few weeks, I slept on a foam mat in a large carpeted room with the rest of my family. A note, the rest of my family got mattresses. For context, the building I am talking about is commercial. It had a large carpeted room with 2 bathrooms (men and women), a kitchen area with greasy walls and no AC, and a one-bedroom apartment on top only accessible by outside stairs. The apartment also had little AC. So, that one room was the best place for us.

Afterward, I moved to an apartment that was arguably not a good time of my life, but I lived there for a year, and now I am back in the apartment of that building. Now I’ve been living here for one and a half years, and I’ve grown to be okay with it. Every day I awake to cars passing by and a wood floor dwelling and continue with my life.

All of this to say, I learned a lot from this experience. I learned that life goes on. You never know what life will bring you. I honestly don’t know how things could have changed if I had stayed.