Somewhere in Neverland

Summer 2005

I’ve left Baltimore before.

Leaving isn’t something I’m new to. I’ve left everything that’s ever come close to resembling home, so this shouldn’t hurt so much, but there's a lump in the back of my throat and my body tingles in numbness.

Baltimore is the closest thing to home that I’ve ever had. My mother chased her job around the country and dragged us along behind her my entire life, despite our cries of desperation to plant our roots somewhere for good. We’ve lived in ten different cities in my 17 years of life, but now we’re on to number 11.

I hear the floorboards creak behind me and I look over my shoulder to see my dad leaning against the wall. The doorframe next to him is covered in little slashes to mark my younger sisters’ growth over the two years we’ve lived in this house. His face is hollow and there are dark bags under his grey eyes that glint with sorrow in the dim light.

“I’m sorry, Caroline,” He says, hanging his head in shame. “I tried so hard.”

It takes everything inside me not to scream at him to grow a pair and stand up for his daughters – for himself, even. He tried hard, my ass. He knows how much Baltimore means to me, to my little sisters. This is our home, as weird as that is to say. This is where Olivia and Natalie were born, where Georgia learned to walk and talk, where Victoria learned to ride her bike and started school, where Eliza finally made friends and began to find herself, where I found my first love – it’s not just another city in another state. This is as close to laying our foundation as we’ve had the chance of doing.

“I know, dad,” Is all I manage to say.

I pity the man. He fucked up when he was a teenager, but he’s lived his entire life trying to do right and own up to that. I don’t think he realizes to this day that he could have gotten out of this life a long time ago; he didn’t have to stand by the woman he accidentally impregnated at 15 and be the best dad a little girl could hope for. But he did and the repercussions show in his aged face.

I return my gaze to the blank walls and emptiness of my bedroom. There are so many memories in this room, so many good times, and it stings to think that it is no longer mine. I stand in my doorway and think of any way I can get out of this move. I pray to god that this is some sort of sick joke, a dream maybe, that my mom didn’t really get displaced to Palo Alto, California.

The floorboard creaks again and I hear my dad sigh.

“It’s time to go,” He says and I clamped my eyes closed tightly and try to hold back the tears.

I said goodbye last night, knowing full well that saying goodbye today would be a bad idea. Rian, Jack, and Zack left early so Alex and I could have some alone time before I had to leave, but all I wanted was to stay with the four of them forever. They were my best friends and despite my history with saying goodbye, something felt different about saying goodbye to them.

When I finally open my eyes, all the memories in my room come flooding back to me – my younger sister’s first steps were taken within these walls, the first time I ever smoked weed, the time I lost my virginity to Alex – they all happened here.

Then, on a whim of stupid bravery, I take one deep breath and glance at my room for the last time.

“Come on, dad,” I say, turning on my heels and choking back tears.