Let Me Be

1: New Beginning, Same Old Habit

"Don't fear change. You may lose something good, but you may also gain something great."

🌷Ember🌷

When Forrest Gump said that life was like a box of chocolates, he wasn't wrong....like at all. When I was born, I opened a box of chocolates, metaphorically speaking of course, that determined my whole life. There were days where I'd pick a chocolate and it was bitter, there were other days where the chocolate I'd pick would be WAY to sweet, then there were days that the chocolate wasn't particularly bitter, but not sweet either, it was kind of in the middle. Today, however, the chocolate I chose was awfully bitter. I just wish I could chuck it in the bin and pick another. But lately, it seems that every chocolate I pick is bitter and disgusting, waiting to be thrown up in the bin after taking the first bite and taken to the trash heap (the dumpster).
I woke up to my alarm, which was Ed Sheeran singing Perfect on the radio. I sat up, hit the off button, then stretched. Thursday, July 31st. Moving Day. I got dressed, pulled my hair back then went downstairs for a spot of breakfast. Passing the clock in the hallway, I noticed that it read, 5:00am . I sighed it's way too early. As I got downstairs, I saw my little brother Baker watching a video of ThatcherJoe on his phone, and my dad finishing up some last minute packing. I went into the kitchen, and grabbed the first thing that I saw, which happened to be a nutri grain bar. While I leaned against the counter and chewed on the fruity bar, my dad walked in, box in hand, seemingly stressed, "What are you doing?"

I looked down at the nutri grain bar, then back at him, "Eating a little bite of breakfast."

My dad sighed, and put the box down on the counter top, "Go get your shoes on, and help me finish loading up the uhaul."

I said, "We're FLYING to America dad, not driving. That's not even possible."

My dad looked at me annoyed, "Well obviously darling, but we have to have something to take our belongings to the plane in don't we?"

I shrugged, "You've got a point. I'll be back down in a minute."

I ran upstairs, slipped on my TOMS, then went downstairs to help load boxes into the uhaul truck. Roughly 15 minutes later, the truck was filled up, and the house was empty. My little brother, Baker, and I stood in the doorway and peered 'round at the empty front room. I rubbed his shoulders, "It'll be ok Bake. Whoever owns this house after us will treat it well I'm sure."

Baker touched the walls of the front room, seemingly reminiscing about simpler times, "That's not what I'm afraid of."

"Oh, I see," I rubbed his back, "Moving across the country is intimidating; I get it. But I can promise you this, It'll get better. You'll get used to everything, and how things work in America. It'll just take a little time. It'll be alright Bake."

Baker hugged me, "Thanks Em."

I smiled, and ushered him out of the door to dad's car. Baker and I don't always get along, which is normal for siblings, but I could tell that he was really stressed, and scared about the move, as was I, so I felt the need to comfort him; let him know that everything will work its self out, and be ok.
  On our way to the airport, I looked out of the window, and watched the scenery as we went by at a medium pace. Soon, we came to a traffic light next to Queens Park in Brighton. As we waited for the light to change, I looked over, and watched the children play happily in the pond with one another. I looked back at Bake, and he was watching as well. I looked back at the children, and sighed. I was going to miss walking by the park on my way to and from school everyday. This move was becoming harder by the second. As I kept thinking about how I was leaving the only place that I've ever known, and about how different America will be from here, the light changed, and we began speeding back down the road. After about 20 minutes, we arrived at the airport. Bake and I entered the airport, while dad made sure everything had the right address. I sighed, and looked around at all the people hustling and bustling 'round. It stressed me out a bit to be honest, looking at all of the people that surrounded us; heading to their designated flights, while also stopping to chat to some of their mates in the process. Finally, Dad met Bake and I over by the Starbucks, and we made our way to our flight. I unlocked my phone, and checked the time; 6:25, we've got five minutes until our plane departs. I put my phone away and sighed,