Nicole ~ "Moved"

Moved

I was nothing but confused when my dad explained he was considering moving us to a newer and smaller house. I stared blankly as my mind raced with uncertainty.
He’s joking! I thought at first. But as my mom and dad discussed it more and more, it became a serious matter.
“Up in Moose,” my dad would say. I’d be bursting with questions, but I didn’t know which one to start with. “Moving to a new house will bring us closer to work, but Danielle and you transferred to a new school,” they would say. I was eight, and my sister was twelve.
I’m fine where we are NOW! I would think repeatedly. My sister, Danielle didn’t want to move any more than I did. Then when I least expected, all the warm and friendly memories of the house invited themselves into my brain and wouldn’t come out.
Tickle Monster was a game my dad, Danielle and I would play when I was about four. We’d scamper throughout the house, giggling and dodging the Tickle Monster (my dad). Holding shields and nets (pillows and blankets), we would search , trying to capture him, but he was out of sight. Popping out at us from what seemed like nowhere, he would tickle us until we squealed and burst with laughter. “Catch him! Catch him!” we’d scream.
When reality returned, the sensational memories slowly drifted away. Or was I abandoning these memories for a new house? Sure, the house we were living in was a manmade shelter, but my family and I transformed it into a house of joy, flooded with our fondest memories. From my first day of kindergarten, to my first loose tooth. What would happen to the memories if we left? Could we make the new house just as fun, or would living there be a disaster?
The next few months, we’d visit the new house every two to three weeks. Danielle and I slid on the hard wood floor in our socks. We didn’t have hardwood floors in the house we were living in. To my surprise, I was actually excited. We inspected all the rooms, finally reaching the one placed at the end of the hallway.
“This is going to be your room,” my mom announced to me. It took one glance for me to fall in love. Sunshine tore through the windows and reflected of the floors, illuminating the dull walls I was eager to paint. I still wasn’t ready for moving into a new house, and I really didn’t want to go to the Kelly school. I was at Moran Elementary, and it seemed as if I belonged there. I loved how I seemed so important, because I was in second grade. My friends from Moran knew all about the move, and they were just as sad. My best friend handed gave me a going away card.
“Switching to Kelly won’t be fun at all,” Danielle and I would always whine. We heard students there were rude and self-centered, and we believed it. Our mom and dad cared and listened to what we had to say, but also didn’t mind. The move was after all more convenient for my parents because it was closer to their work.
Each visit got more and more serious. From the sliding on the floors to moving in or wooden furniture. My family and I were actually moving to Moose, and I still couldn’t believe it.
After five months of talking, we moved. Just like that. We were new to the neighborhood, receiving occasional cupcakes or brownies. ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ or ‘We’re delighted to have you here’, neighbors would say as they handed over treats. My mom accepted them gratefully.
Danielle and I didn’t want to start Kelly school. We would complain “Nobody’s friendly there.”
Our parents would respond as if our complaints were nothing. “Oh, it’ll be fine.” They were trying to be convincing.
They don’t understand, and no, it won’t be fine. Saying that it would just wasn’t good enough. I wanted to hear “Oh, you don’t have to go to Kelly.” But two weeks later, we had our first day of school at Kelly. Just like that. A huge part in my life was beginning right before my eyes, I wanted it to slow down. I was on my first bus ride to Kelly... tension building. My insides were flipping, and my mind was racing with negative thoughts. They’ll all be mean. Negative. The teachers will be really strict. Negative. The kids will think we‘re weird. The school will be too big. It won’t be fun at all. Negative, negative, negative. Once we arrived, my thoughts multiplied. I was strolled uncomfortably next to Danielle, wondering if she was panicking too. My eyes were flitting over the school, which surprisingly was about the same size as Moran. I began to understand the murmur. “Who are they?” and “Look, new kids!” There were cheery kids and casual-looking teachers. We, on the other hand, probably didn’t look casual or relaxed.
People were kind to me throughout the day, and I enjoyed it. From beginning to end, Kelly was fine. Just like our new house. Sometimes I look through family photo albums catch a glimpse of the old house, and then I mourn it.
We went back a year later to go on a hike and stopped in to visit the neighborhood. Nobody lived in our house, so we got the keys from an other park ranger, went inside, and had a look around. Sauntering into my old room, I saw the nail polish stain on the floor. On the wall I saw the dent I made during a tantrum when I threw my plastic pony at the wall. I giggled. I was actually okay with not living there. My family and I already had moved into the new house, and there was no turning back. Why would we even want to? We were finally settled in and everything had turned out better than I expected. The move taught me an important lesson: think positive.