Goodbye Dearest Home

In Perspective of Mandi

The old wooden railing was course against my hand, each dip and groove with in the wood had become sanded over with time and use. Carefully I set my feet on the small ledge beneath the railing, pink slippers gripping gently to withered material. A small pink strand got caught within some unseen grove as I slid my foot up, level with the surface. The stairs moaned and creaked as I began to trek slowly up to the first floor, almost as if whispering its tragic goodbye.
Sunlight pierced through open windows bright rays dancing in the open rooms, specs of dust floating lazily within their warmth. I paused beside a window, peering out at our front lawn, the green blades still wet from a recent watering. Thick shrubs seem to beckon, their soft leaves almost wilting with our inevitable departure.
My mother called from somewhere outside, but I ignored her, moving to my empty room. Pink carpet stood, fluffed as always, I kicked off my shoes and began to carefully pick my way to the farthest wall. The lengthy fluff encompassed my feet, soft padding surrounding small toes and hiding freshly scrubbed feet. I shoved my hands into the thick strands; a sad smile seemed to flicker for a moment as I thought of how I would never again be able to relax in this comfortable room again, absent mindedly playing with fluffy carpet.
Mom was saying something, her voice carried throughout the empty hallways into my room, my mind wandering elsewhere. Large tears rolled slowly down my face, strands of hair whisking around in the light breeze, my beautiful home was soon to be another’s. Vaguely I wondered if they would tear up my beautiful carpet, throw it out in the trash, the comfort would be of no concern to them, they would probably see it as old and worn. My beautiful haven would be turned into a bleak, stereotypical American room with no offering of individuality.
Slowly I rose and went out the back door, past the poor and onto our swing set. The boards creaked as I carefully made my way up the weathered ladder and onto the small platform. Chains dangled and clanked quietly in soft summer sun, the slide glittering and gleaming in the beautiful weather. I could feel the sun and warmth upon my skin, yet it seemed so bitterly beautiful, I could not bring myself to enjoy it. How could a day so miserable be filled with such luxurious weather? It was, to say the least, ironic.
My mother stepped out on the deck, watching me as I breathed in deeply, then sat at the front of the slide. She beckoned slightly, but I ignored her once more, this was my last moment in my home and I was going to enjoy it the way I wanted to. I would relive all of my beautiful hours spent in the sun with friends, and all the nights I curled up on my carpet with crayons to draw, all of the times that I watched my mother stand in our bathroom and apply her makeup before she headed off to work. I slid down the warm slippery surface, looking up at my house and whispered softly, “Goodbye.”