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White Walls
The apartment smelled foreign – like plaster and paint. It was smaller than anything I had lived in before, and I felt as if I was sitting in a stranger’s home. Despite my furniture or any of my belongings, I didn’t feel right. I saw my friends in my mind’s eye, residing in luxurious houses that were more than houses – they were homes. The new carpet was rough against the soles of my feet, and as I tried to avoid the menacing glances thrown at me by the movers I realized that I could hear the roar of cars speeding by on freeway, rushing to arrive on time for their monotonous, mundane lives. My mom came over and gave me a squeeze on the shoulders – “Don’t look so blue, Ella. This apartment is a new adventure – a new chapter in our life, and an extension of ourselves.”
The apartment in question is miniscule compared to a two-story, five bedroom home. It’s piercingly white walls seem better fit for an asylum than a family dwelling. Is this a family dwelling, though? It is only my mom and I, but I suppose we were the only family each other had, even while living with my stepdad. Regardless of my mother’s liberation, I feel lost – a misplaced memento of a life I once lived. I find nothing in its cracked countertops to be happy of, not a glimmer of joy in the way the kitchen light flickers whenever the switch is flipped. I had invested so much in a world that now seemed mythical, vague and mysterious. I felt horrible and awkward in this new life - It was as if in transferring to a new location I had left myself behind, and though my body had taken up residence, my soul remained, shrouded by an impenetrable mist.
Nonetheless, I began to acclimate myself to my new habitat. My eyes began to discover potential instead of problems, beauty instead of blasphemy. When my mother surprised me with red walls in my bedroom, I fell in love. I was no longer trapped in my own insane outlook on life, but anointing my soul and body – it was as if the red walls had acted as a beacon of light to draw my soul forth from the depths of my past. The carpets were covered by antique rugs, countertops covered with cutting boards. Now as I lie in bed, listening to the speeding of cars rushing off to greet new opportunities and experience the cleansing power of a sunrise, I am excited to learn what the future holds, as now I am comfortable in my home.
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