I'm tired.
Of packing.
Also of life.
What's happening, you may ask. Well, here's the answer.
Tomorrow, my family and I are moving out to a new town as a result of my dad's promotion. The day dad told us that, many emotions were felt in the house.
My brother Nathan, who is two years older than me, being an extrovert, threw a massive tantrum expressing his concern for all his friend's reaction. He thought they'll be devastated and somehow couldn't live without him. We let him believe that.
I on the other hand, felt mixed kind of emotions. I was born and raised here, so even though this place offered nothing but fake friends and heartbreaks, it had made me strong, and I was sad to leave. On the counterpart, I was excited to be finally able to move out of this soul sucking place, meet new people and start a new chapter in my life.
' We are going to Nirlton town.'
Dad informed us that night, earning him a series of groans of are-you-serious, you-cannot-be-serious, tell-me-you-are-joking, from mom and Nathan. I can't blame them though.
Nirlton town was the last place one may want to move in and there are two reasons for that: firstly, the town was infamous for its unsolvable murders and sudden disappearance of people; secondly, it was claimed to be one of the most haunted town where a ghost was looking for its lost soulmate. I too have heard stories but never paid much attention to them.
So, why are we moving? The answer is quite simple. Money.
Yes, as it is well said that money can even blind a blind, hearing the amount dad would get was enough for all of us to shove those rational worries in the ass of logic and get on with packing.
However, even money can't buy me. Procrastination had already bought me and I've been a slave for it for years.
So, that explains why I've been the last one still remaining to pack most of my stuff.
Sitting in the middle, I was hopelessly staring at my room--which was looking like a victim of a severe tornado. There were empty card boxes everywhere on the floor. On one corner, a huge pile of clothes seemed to be mocking me while the other half of the room was filled with books and items that I didn't even remember buying.
"Blue, are you done packing?" My mom's loud voice startled me.
Now, I know that one must speak the truth, but the high possibility of my mom getting a heart attack after seeing the ghostly sight of the disastrous state my room was in, I decided to tell the otherwise.
"Yes ma, I am almost done. In fact, I was just taping the boxes."
I quickly grabbed the cello tape lying on the floor and opened it to create some noise effect. Do something with all your might, my uncle used to say that. He killed his wife. Horrible man with great advice. Irony at it's best.
"Alright then, if you say so. Don't be awake for too long. We have to leave early in the morning."
"Sure mom."
"Alright honey, goodnight, love you!"
"Love you too mom!"
Since, I lied and had only one night to cover it up, I motivated my painfully lazy mind to get to work. Looking around, I decided to finish up with clothes since these just need a little shove and a considerable amount of strength to zip up the suitcase.
Heading towards the mass of clothes and feeling pity for myself, I sat down in front of it. I grabbed the yellow top lying on the top of the pile and threw it in the suitcase. Next came the jeans, then a hoodie I haven't seen in years. Soon, both my hands started to work in a team.
