Do you ever walk into a room and forget why you came in there? It is so easy for a single thing to slip our minds. One moment we might be thinking about it, a clear vision in our heads, the next moment we have an incredible amount of difficulty recalling the simplest thing. But what if the thing you forgot about was one that you swore you never would?
This was it, the last day I'd ever be standing in the house I grew up in. There were so many memories trapped within these walls that I wasn't ready to let go of. There were still pencil etchings on my bedroom doorframe that showed how tall I was at which age. It had been a few years since the last time we'd done it.
I missed the days my parents were so cheerful around me, watching me grow up, a smile forming on their faces with every silly thing I did. I was an only child, so there was never another kid in the picture that would steal my place as the best kid they'd ever had.
I remember playing around with my dad on the swing set he'd built for me. He eventually got me a football and we tossed it back and forth around the yard. This was back before work consumed his life like it had now. He was always so tired. You could see the heavy bags forming beneath his eyes every time he looked over to you. But I didn't mind, I still loved my dad.
My mom was the main person around for me, helping me with homework, fighting away the monsters from under my bed. She even helped me out into getting with the girl I'm with today. Sure it's been a few weeks, but I think she and I are meant to be.
As we lifted the last few boxes into the moving truck, I took one last look at the house. My parents closed the back door and made their way to the front seats. I stared back at the house, fighting back tears. I know I'd miss all the friends I'd made here.
I was nearly to the front seat to join my parents when I remembered that there was one thing left in the house for me to get. There was a box of old shirts I'd hid in my closet. I told my parents and hurried back inside. I'd made it to my room and grabbed the box. A voice above me made me jump and nearly drop the box. I looked up to find nothing there. Was the voice coming from the attic? My parents never let me go in there.
I could hear my dad calling to me to hurry up, but I ignored it to find the staircase. It was hidden behind a door in the laundry room. I opened the door and pulled out my phone to use as a flashlight.
I made my way up the stairs to follow the voice, which seemed to grow louder. It was so muffled it was hard to tell what they were saying, let alone if it was even coming from a guy or a girl. Finally, I was at the top of the staircase. I opened the door at the end and was greeted with an empty room covered in cobwebs. It was dimly lit by the single giant window on the other side of the room. I assumed it shown out to overlook the front yard. I slowly made my way to it, being cautious of where I was stepping. The floor creaked beneath me and I feared one panel might break and I'd fall through.
After making it to the window, I peered out to see the moving truck pulling away from the house.
What the hell? Are my parents actually leaving me behind? Did they forget about me?
I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom. It rang a few times before I was greeted with a man's voice, my dad.
"Hello, who is this?" he asked, a little aggressive.
"Uh, it's me your son?" I replied to him as though it was some kind of twisted joke. "I'm still at the house, you left me behind."
I could hear brakes squealing in the phone. Finally. Something must have clicked for him. "What the hell did you just say?"
I was about to say something in response, but he didn't give me the opportunity to speak. "We don't have a kid. We've tried longer than you've probably been alive." He yelled at me through the phone. "I don't know who this is and I don't care. Don't ever call this number again." That was the last thing I heard before the call disconnected, leaving me in tears.
This was it, the last day I'd ever be standing in the house I grew up in. There were so many memories trapped within these walls that I wasn't ready to let go of. There were still pencil etchings on my bedroom doorframe that showed how tall I was at which age. It had been a few years since the last time we'd done it.
I missed the days my parents were so cheerful around me, watching me grow up, a smile forming on their faces with every silly thing I did. I was an only child, so there was never another kid in the picture that would steal my place as the best kid they'd ever had.
I remember playing around with my dad on the swing set he'd built for me. He eventually got me a football and we tossed it back and forth around the yard. This was back before work consumed his life like it had now. He was always so tired. You could see the heavy bags forming beneath his eyes every time he looked over to you. But I didn't mind, I still loved my dad.
My mom was the main person around for me, helping me with homework, fighting away the monsters from under my bed. She even helped me out into getting with the girl I'm with today. Sure it's been a few weeks, but I think she and I are meant to be.
As we lifted the last few boxes into the moving truck, I took one last look at the house. My parents closed the back door and made their way to the front seats. I stared back at the house, fighting back tears. I know I'd miss all the friends I'd made here.
I was nearly to the front seat to join my parents when I remembered that there was one thing left in the house for me to get. There was a box of old shirts I'd hid in my closet. I told my parents and hurried back inside. I'd made it to my room and grabbed the box. A voice above me made me jump and nearly drop the box. I looked up to find nothing there. Was the voice coming from the attic? My parents never let me go in there.
I could hear my dad calling to me to hurry up, but I ignored it to find the staircase. It was hidden behind a door in the laundry room. I opened the door and pulled out my phone to use as a flashlight.
I made my way up the stairs to follow the voice, which seemed to grow louder. It was so muffled it was hard to tell what they were saying, let alone if it was even coming from a guy or a girl. Finally, I was at the top of the staircase. I opened the door at the end and was greeted with an empty room covered in cobwebs. It was dimly lit by the single giant window on the other side of the room. I assumed it shown out to overlook the front yard. I slowly made my way to it, being cautious of where I was stepping. The floor creaked beneath me and I feared one panel might break and I'd fall through.
After making it to the window, I peered out to see the moving truck pulling away from the house.
What the hell? Are my parents actually leaving me behind? Did they forget about me?
I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom. It rang a few times before I was greeted with a man's voice, my dad.
"Hello, who is this?" he asked, a little aggressive.
"Uh, it's me your son?" I replied to him as though it was some kind of twisted joke. "I'm still at the house, you left me behind."
I could hear brakes squealing in the phone. Finally. Something must have clicked for him. "What the hell did you just say?"
I was about to say something in response, but he didn't give me the opportunity to speak. "We don't have a kid. We've tried longer than you've probably been alive." He yelled at me through the phone. "I don't know who this is and I don't care. Don't ever call this number again." That was the last thing I heard before the call disconnected, leaving me in tears.
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