Get up Whenever You Fall

Corners of my mouth curve up in a sad smile at the sight of so many scattered photos lying on my bedroom floor, my dearest memories. I look up and around my room. I’ll miss it. The green walls filled with posters, drawings, lyrics… I’ll miss everything. From the big, old white framed window, that I spent so many summer nights in front of, looking up at the stars, to the dent in my door my brother caused when I locked him inside and didn’t let him out for 6 hours because he deleted my favorite game on our computer, he got pissed off and he punched the door. I giggle at that memory.

This room was my fortress for 18 years. The place where I could laugh, cry, yell, dance, blast music as loud as the stereo volume would go. My head is filled with memories, of this town, me and my friends, family. One of the freshest flutters through my head.

”64 stairs to go.” I mutter to myself while climbing the staircase to my flat.
“Victory!” I yell when I climb the last stair.
Every day for the last 12 years of my life I got down and up these stairs to go to school. No more! I can’t believe I finally graduated. I open the front door.

“Who’s home?!”
“Me and dad are in the living room, come here.” I hear my mum’s voice. I toss my bag on the floor and enter the living room. My parents are sitting on the couch, looking at me with nervous smiles on their faces.
“What’s up?” I ask cheerfully and sit down in an armchair opposite of them.
“We have news.” My mum simply says.
“Oookay, what is it.” My gaze shifts between the two.
“You know that job transfer I was talking about?” My dad asks and I nod, remembering him mentioning it recently. “Well, I got it.” I smile, proud and happy for my dad. “Congratulations.”

My smile turns into a confused look when I realize they wouldn’t be sitting in the living room, being all serious if this was just another job. One of them would casually mention it and that’s it.
“So what’s the catch?” They look at each other, realizing I noticed something’s wrong.
“The job’s in Sydney.” My mum looks at me, anticipating for my reaction.
My mouth drops. “Sydney!? Sydney, Australia?!” They both nod.
“When are we moving?” I ask with a big grin and they just stare at me, shocked.

“What? You know I always wanted to move away, and now when I finally graduated, we can. I can go to a Uni anywhere. Alexander has his own life here. I always hated living here. Croatia is too small, people are…” I search for the right word, “not exactly my type. I always spoke English better than Croatian. I have always loved Australia. And this will be my chance to start over. So, I am really happy.” I flash them a big grin.

My mum sighs in relief. “Thank God, we thought we we’re going to have to bribe you with gifts.” She laughs.
“Oh you will.” I smile. “New job equals more money for you, more money for you equals more money for me. More money for me equals shopping” They laugh.

Two weeks later, I am sitting on my bedroom floor, packing. The sudden feeling of sadness hits me. I don’t like it here so much, people, mentality, behavior etc., but still, I can’t help but feel sad. I collect the scattered photos in front of me and put them in a small box, tape it so they don’t fall out and put it in a bigger, brown carton box that says Nikine stvari**.

Next I take off the posters. They’re mostly posters of my favorite bands. They are all in their original spot, as they were put up, and they were never moved. I put them in the same box as the photos. The things left in the room that are mine are the glue-on stars on the window.

On winter, when it was too cold to open the window and look at the night sky I was forced to just lie in my bed till sleep caught me. But one day in a random store I spotted silver, sparkly, glue-on stars. They reminded me of real stars and their shine so I bought them and glued them on my window so I always see the starts shining, summer or winter.

I carefully take them off, put them in a small bag and in the carton box.
I carry the box outside my room and look at my green painted walls and big, old white framed window one more time. We're keeping the flat ‘cause we will come here to visit, but still, I can’t stop the hot tear from slipping down my cheek.

Australia, here I come.