Rafting Rapids

Letting Go

      Summer had set its course, fingers to familiar with boxes, I found some unreal meeting me. I was in fifth grade, short cut hair, carmel eyes, baggy clothes and all.

      My friends were there too, smiles paved ackwardly on their faces, tears wedged in the crevices of their eyes, I smiled too.

        My parents gathered up my belongings, undoing my room for the newcomers. Home would only be a memory locked inside my heart, I felt it before we even left. The boxes were all shapes, written with thick permanent marker, touched by my friends hands.

         They took it as a time just to tidy up my room, a barren room though says much more. Books, small, fine, piled in boxes saying their goodbyes. A baseball fan watched me, wondering where I would go, I'd leave it.

          A desk, velvet, sat stoned to the wall begging me to fill its vacant shelves to once more hold the papers it cherished so close. My closet creaked, holsing no clothes, nothing to dress me ever again.

          Niki she stood, a smike drawn on her face, soft hand placing item on item. She stood there watching me, eyeing me, feeling for me.

           She'd miss me, miss my sweet messy personality. My unbuilt individuality,  my laughter in our overnighters, she'd miss it all.
         She lies laughing to herself as I lie beside her. Sleep pulling only at my eyes, she pounces on me, startling me awake. Her voice crismatic, hands shaking, she taunts my dreams. My thoughts melt with her words, a ship appears in a vast water swaying back and forth.
           Niki was one of many friends, but she never let me down. I see her now, making little toy movies by my side, selecting names for each toy. We'd so it for hours, varying our voice, chuckling at jokes not once watching the time.

            I watched her pack my memories away, a car came to ship them away. She was regretful as I, the walls whispered to us reminding us of all the fun.

            Her print is on the boxes, reminsing me of her strokes. Little lines show once felt struggles, notes code the corners to lift my spirits. She wrote so precisely, so genuinely,  I have troubles packing it away.