Staying Grounded on the Sea.
Departure.
That last Friday I spent at school, my friends threw a mini going-away party for me during our lunch period.
Throughout the week, all my friends secretly arranged pictures, written-memories, and stubs of small items into blank composition books to give to me on my last day, along with small gifts such as gummy bears, bracelets, and flavored-lip gloss. I couldn't picture myself having such caring friends in Texas.
School ended. Before searching for my bus in the overcrowded bus loop, I gave each and every one of my friends a hug, holding back burning tears.
Our home was emptier than anything. All the boxes that were previously lined up against the now bare green walls of the living room were shipped to Texas in a moving truck two days before. All that remained was everyone's large suitcases stacked by the door.
Everyone slept on the carpeted floor that night. Mom, Dad, Sienna... I couldn't sleep at all.
Morning of the move came, the sun slowly starting to rise around 5:30. I took one last complete walk-through of the place I'd called home for years.
Mom and Dad's room, where I once used to run to when I had nightmares. Empty.
The hallway bathroom, where me and my best friend Lacey once had a massive shaving-cream fight. Bare.
My bedroom, where I once hosted the most joyous sleepovers and built the most grand of blanket-forts. Desolate.
I shed a tear in every room of that house as I gave it my final goodbye. 6:00 came; The time Mrs. Natalie, a family friend, drove us to the airport, for we had sold our cars.
Throughout the week, all my friends secretly arranged pictures, written-memories, and stubs of small items into blank composition books to give to me on my last day, along with small gifts such as gummy bears, bracelets, and flavored-lip gloss. I couldn't picture myself having such caring friends in Texas.
School ended. Before searching for my bus in the overcrowded bus loop, I gave each and every one of my friends a hug, holding back burning tears.
Our home was emptier than anything. All the boxes that were previously lined up against the now bare green walls of the living room were shipped to Texas in a moving truck two days before. All that remained was everyone's large suitcases stacked by the door.
Everyone slept on the carpeted floor that night. Mom, Dad, Sienna... I couldn't sleep at all.
Morning of the move came, the sun slowly starting to rise around 5:30. I took one last complete walk-through of the place I'd called home for years.
Mom and Dad's room, where I once used to run to when I had nightmares. Empty.
The hallway bathroom, where me and my best friend Lacey once had a massive shaving-cream fight. Bare.
My bedroom, where I once hosted the most joyous sleepovers and built the most grand of blanket-forts. Desolate.
I shed a tear in every room of that house as I gave it my final goodbye. 6:00 came; The time Mrs. Natalie, a family friend, drove us to the airport, for we had sold our cars.