All the Memories

photo by Drew Hoffman

It was moving day. Jennifer had been dreading this day for a month. As she sat on top of a box that held all of her clothes, she tried not to cry. She had spent weeks crying herself to sleep, ever since her parents had told her and her siblings the news.
She had known that it was because her parents couldn’t afford to keep the house with all the warm, cozy rooms. They had been sitting down in the living room last month staring at the bills for hours before they said they had to move. But she loves the house with the winding staircase that carried her up to the attic bedroom. Jen had four other siblings, and they were all sharing rooms, so Jen, being the middle child, had volunteered to sleep in the attic. She didn’t mind much and she quite enjoyed living up there. It was an escape she needed from reality, a good place to go when you didn’t want to be found. She could think and not be disturbed by anything.
Jennifer sat looking out her one window on her box, lost in thought, letting the sun pour onto her pale face. She looked at all the boxes in her room; they were filled with countless memories- the dolls from her childhood, pictures of her and her friends, toys, books, and everything that was her life. This house was her life. She was born here and she couldn’t leave here without leaving most of herself.
            “Excuse me, miss." Jennifer looked up. It was the moving men come to take the boxes to the truck.

"Can we start in here now?" he said. "—or do you want a few more minutes?" he said, with obvious disinterest.

"Sure, you can start." said Jennifer, and stood up from her box of clothes. Then proceeded to walk down the creaky, winding staircase that she loved so dearly and sat down on the floor in the middle of their large study. She looked around the room, swiveling around in her spot to take in the whole room. She could picture her father sitting at the desk in the corner, scratching his head as he looked at his laptop. She could see her mother playing with the twins, Mark and Minnie, she would pretend to take their noses and eat them as they would shriek with laughter. She could see her older brother, Jake, sitting on the couch, watching TV. And she could see her sister, Angela, the oldest, drawing on her notepad, sitting on her chair near the window. But now the room was empty, and it was unfamiliar. Now there were squares on the wallpaper where pictures used to be, and patches of dust where the furniture had been. Looking around the room, Jennifer felt as though a place in her heart had been erased, as if none of the memories she had made in this room mattered.

She got up and ran her fingers along the old wallpaper; it was made of fabric, not actual paper. It used to be a bright, cheery orangey color, but it was now faded into a faint beige. Her finger snagged on the fabric and as she unsnagged it her father called out for her.

            “Come on Jenni! We gotta start going!”

            “Coming!” She yelled as she walked slowly out of the room. She turned back and tears feel down her face. Yes, she was most defiantly leaving a piece of her here.