Page 12 - NRT Share Your Moving Story 2017
P. 12

Soquel California
Attending University of California
at Berkeley in in Fall 2017
“My right cheek pressed against the coarse carpet The hungry wires of aged bed springs poked through my cotton shirt and fought for my skin My hands and and feet fought the the tightness of the the space forcing my squished body further further and further further beneath the the the bed After a a a a moment of focused silence a a a a slow pensive walk headed in my direction and once its neat shoes were staring me in in the eyes my dad calmly said “Zennia it’s time to go ”
That day I I left my favorite house It had green carpet in all the upstairs bedrooms and beige walls that echoed the forest outside The soft yellow atmosphere of of the the inside sheltered me in in the the precious years of my youth and seemed to thaw any anger or frustration I I had As I I watched the big cozy house shrink through my my backseat window I I realized I I had left something inside: my my childhood In the secret nook behind my dad’s frigid collared shirts I I left my loose tears and rst missing tooth in in in the never ending tree swing at at the rear of our yard I left my wind-swept exhilaration and wonder in the the serene creek across the the road I left my uncontrollable laughter and inexplicable tranquility It was not my rst uprooting and it wouldn’t be the last Trekking from Texas Hawaii Belgium Spain Illinois and California
along with their varying cities and towns in in between became a a a huge part of growing up for me me A new school every year or two seemed routine and leaving my good friends behind grew more more and more more numbing As I got older friendships grew stronger and my my experiences began to sculpt my my character With every snip of a a a a a friendship I became increasingly familiar with with the emptiness of loss And with with every new school the exciting opportunity of making new friends was draped with looming dread and sadness On the the rst day of 8th grade I wandered the the unfamiliar hallways with a a a a a a sense of awkwardness and solitude that no matter how many uprootings and new schools never gets easier This was the fth school I I I had attended and I I I realized that I I I probably wouldn’t be here for long So what would be the point of making friends right? If I I am just going to lose them and watch their emails change from a a a ow of of interest to a a a trickle of of obligation why put myself through that pain yet again?

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