December
It was one of those cold, dreary days when the sun’s amber rays were turned white by the grey storm clouds that stacked up ominously above. The streets were a dark grey from the rain last night and the grass was the most luscious shade of green. The subtle beauty of the day was ruined though by the giant, hulking moving truck sitting in front of my house. Its obnoxious orange stripe right across the middle of it was almost blinding compared to the grays of the rest of the world. I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a sigh. I wrote ‘help’ on the fogged up window. I scribbled it out quickly when my mom walked into the room.
“Honey, would you go check you and your brother’s room one last time to make sure we didn’t miss anything?”
“Mom, we’ve checked every room in this house a hundred times.”
“Please, just run upstairs and holler down.” She gave me a look.
“Fine.” I sent her back my best, I’m-gonna-smother-your-face-with-a-pillow-until-you-stop-kicking, look.
I stomped up the worn-out wooden stairs I had grown up and fallen down on and had to hold back tears. I checked all of the rooms and finally my own. I sat on the window seat and ran my fingers under the ledge until I found what I was looking for.
It was a crude engraving of a heart that my boyfriend Brian and I had etched the first time he was allowed in my room without one of my parents, or brother, checking in on us every five minutes. I tear ran down my cheek.
“Hannah? Did we forget anything?” My mom called up.
“No.” I replied after a few choked up seconds.
I walked back downstairs and ran my hand along the railing. My dog looked up at me sullenly from the bottom of the stairs.
“It’ll be okay Malcolm. You’re a good boy, the new house has a big backyard where you can run and lay in the sun.” I pat his head, but knew that any words wouldn’t soothe him. He somehow knew in that way dogs have of knowing, that something big was happening.
Should I continue?
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