Easy Street

Chapter 1: Yellow Wallpaper

When I was a kid, I was very intrigued by my neighbours. My mom always told me to stay out of their yards, as well as their business, but I was too interested. Everyone that resided on Easy street had their own stories to tell, and I wanted to hear all of them.

By the time that I entered first grade, I was on a first name basis with pretty much everyone on my street. The small group of close friends I had in my class always told me I was weird for being so interested in other people's lives, but I didn't care. It was normal to me.

I would walk home after school each day, and greet everyone that I passed. Mrs.Amy McKutch lives at the top of the street in a blue house, and I've always been sort of jealous of how she has such a nice view of the street. My house on the other hand, is near the bottom, and it doesn't have as nice of a view as her house does. Mrs.McKutch and I used to sit on her front porch on warm summer nights, and like queens on our thrones, we would watch the sun set. When the street lights had illuminated the street, I would pedal my purple bike all the way down to my house.

After I recklessly disposed my bike on our front lawn, I skipped up the front porch and into the house. I still remember what my mother always said to me:

"Emerald Jerilynn Green! Where in God's name have you been? Don't tell me that you were bothering Amy McKutch again!"

"I wasn't bothering her mom, she told me that she enjoys my company!" I proudly stated.

She didn't say anything else, as she took off my hoodie and hung it up. I walked into the kitchen, and picked up the lingering scents of the supper that she had made hours earlier.

Since my mom died when I was in the third grade, I can't recall smelling anything else in our kitchen besides junk food, alcohol, and take out. I know that nowadays my father isn't up for cooking, let alone anything else, but I just wish that he'd make an effort.

Now, when I come home from school, there is no one waiting for me behind our green door; no one that cares, that is. I open the door myself, and go into the kitchen, before realizing that the cupboards are basically empty other than some baking supplies from the time that I had a baking phase. I don't feel like eating flour however, so I retreat to my room, where I crash onto my bed, and stare at the yellow wallpaper for what feels like decades. I listen for hours on end, to the faint sound of the local news on the tv in my father's room.

"Em? Come here!" my mom shouted one day, from the other room. "Let's go down to the hardware store."

As we pulled into the parking lot, she handed me a sum of money, and told me to go inside and choose a colour of paint for my room. I could not believe my ears. Since we'd moved into our house, my room had been the ugliest shade of beige. I remember staring at all of the different selections, before narrowing my choices down to two colours; yellow and purple. After deciding to go with the yellow paint, I ran out of the store, eager to show my mom.

She had told me that she'd loved my choice, and that the yellow reminded her of me; always happy and bright.

That yellow wallpaper is now the only thing that is happy and bright about our house.

After staring at the wallpaper, I prop myself up with some pillows, and stare out of the window at the other houses instead.

Out of my bedroom window, I can see some of the neighbours out in their yards.

Mr. & Mrs. Jefferson are a blast to the past. Despite being over 80 years old, the two of them are quite agile, and are always out around town. Right now however, they have just pulled up to their red and White house in their AMC Gremlin.