Many people sit down to talk about their hobbies or interests. The only things occupying my mind are memories. Most of them aren't even pleasant. Here are the ones that haven't been entirely forgotten. Some are more vivid than others.
...
I will be...
Our parents waited until we were out of school to break the news. They called my brother and I to the living room, sitting us down on the couch side by side.
"We have something to tell you guys..."
My heart raced. Sweat broke out all over my body, my lungs couldn't pull enough air. My brother sat curiously beside me, I sat terrified. I couldn't begin to guess what they were going to say next. Who died? What happened? What's next?
"We are moving to Texas."
No. no.
Everything in my body burst into flames. Rage, despair, and anxiety flooded my body. This was the worst outcome possible for the situation. Immediately I was shivering and crying. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else, seeing anyone else. I only knew my room and my house, my street was familiar. My town and everything that happened in it was always predictable and stable. Texas was big and terrifying. I would have to make new friends, learn new places. I wanted to crawl under the floor and never move again, just listening to the muffled noises of all the families to come after us.
My parents seemed only sorry. It was for Dad's work, they said. It was a better opportunity.
We moved at the end of the school year. My parents hosted a "going away" party, inviting everyone local who was present in our lives. School friends, sports teams, babies that she babysat, family friends, church people. My closest friends and I exchanged jewelry. I gathered house phone numbers and addresses for letters and calls. I promised to write as soon as I could. My first friend and I exchanged more personal gifts, spent more time together. We cried. I loved her, I had envisioned spending the rest of my life with her. As a team. All of my dreams were squashed that day.
The move itself was easy for me, but that's because my parents took the brunt of it as the leaders in the family. We headed out with a house already chosen and waiting for us.
Midway through the drive, the landlords backed out. The house wasn't ours, for reasons I never understood. My parents panicked without worrying us, and scrambled for a temporary stay.
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Our first full stop was at my dad's childhood friend's home. We stayed with them for a few nights until we snagged an apartment in Wylie.
We moved in as soon as we could, having a lot of leftover items needing to be stored in the garage. Our apartment was on the second floor, where we had to be quiet as to not annoy the bottom floor while being annoyed by those above us.
I spent my summer getting to know the kids around me, and watching people walk their dogs below us. I desperately wanted a dog, for as long as I could remember. I begged night and day. Always a "not yet."
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