𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 | ongoing

i • get on track

Three years later

WITH MY BAG HUNG on my shoulders and my phone secured between the fingers of my left hands, I stood. The bright morning was tinged with mild mistiness, the temperature refreshing. My ecstatics were all over the place; it's glows spreading across and chasing the darkness away.

Fresh air filled my lungs as I pulled out the buds from my ears, leaving me exhilarated. I was amazed at how peaceful the world was compared to the loud music that had been blasting into my ears.

With my eyes fixated on the house before me, I tucked my phone into the pocket of my jeans and the first thing that ran through my head was- our new home.

My story definitely didn't start here. It had long started when I was born, when my world began crumbling-with scars and blood I can never forget. But today, my story was going to be fresh and rewritten with the ink of vengeance, broken hearts and bruised soul but strongest of all-with the ink of a tough, brave and valiant heart.

Today was the day to mend all broken hearts.

"What are you doing Carla?" my mom's voice pulled me out of my never ending world of admiration. With a deep breath, I turned around to face her. Opening my mouth to speak, she beat me to it,

"Come help us with the boxes," she carried out some boxes from the truck that was parked in the neat yard.

I nodded, breaking into a smile, "okay." I walked towards the back of the truck and looked for a box I could carry. I decided on the box with the inscription, 'Kitchen utensils' Not bad.

I lifted up the surprisingly heavy box and dropped it on the front porch. My eyes caught Allison, scanning through the trunk as I walked towards her. A messy bun laid on top of her head, few strands of her blonde hair dancing to the cool air that swept past.

"Seriously, blankets and pillows?" I asked her, incredulously when I sighted her place her slender fingers on the box.

Her head immediately turned to look at me, nature green eyes fixated on mine, "What? You know I don't have strength like you big cousin," she grinned.

I broke into a chuckle and grabbed another box, "If you say so but, you'll have to carry more boxes than the rest of us."

Not giving her a chance to respond, I let out a low giggle and walked towards the front porch to drop the box. Once again- like a fever of enthusiasm, I fixed my eyes on our home, my emotions dancing in the air. This choice was made by my uncle, considering the fact that I would be going to college in the next week and it was the second house we were moving into in three years.

Breaking away from the trance I had been in, I considered getting back to work before any of the two adults noticed. As if on cue, my uncle's voice overcame the silence of nature.