REMEMBER THE NIGHTS | newt

one - the start of something new

wc ; 1,924

Leaving your childhood home was never going to be easy; you knew that. But the knowledge of it didn't make the leaving any easier. The two bedroom high-rise apartment was where you grew up, smack-dab in the middle of New York City. It was modern, with white walls and a fancy kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows that cast an incredible glow over the entire inside of the apartment at sunset. But, all good things come to an end. At least, that's what your father told you.

You weren't upset, considering the circumstances, just nostalgic. You had never lived in another house before. You learned to speak, to read, to walk here. Birthdays, Christmases, Easters, and all those memories were made here. 17 years full of love and light and your father, all being packed up and moved two hours outside the city you called home, to a suburb you could barely remember the name of.

The only reason you were moving was because your father was getting married soon. His new soon-to-be wife was incredible, and her sons were amazing. The oldest of the two was the same age as you, give or take a few months, and his brother was rounding the corner to turn 13. They had spent every other weekend with you and your father in the city for nearly a year, and vice versa, so it wasn't like you were completely uprooting your life.

You and Thomas, the eldest, had been wandering the streets and hanging out for so long, it was already like he was your brother. Chuck was a different story, seeing as he spent most of his time with his mom, but you loved him all the same, and he loved you, too. When you did spend time with Chuck, though, it was always full of laughter and love.

As you packed the last of your family belongings into the moving van, your father laid a hand on your shoulder. "I know this is hard for you, pumpkin,"

"It's okay, dad." You turned, facing your father. "As long as you're happy, I'll be okay. And besides, Thomas and Teresa will help me out until I adjust."

He only nodded, pulling you in for a brief, comforting hug. After closing the door to the van and signaling the driver to wait for your father, you climbed into the passenger side of his Camaro and out of the parking lot, the van following behind you. Your eyes fell to the side-view mirror, watching the building you once called home fading away into the city lights.

Behind you were the bustle and brightness of New York City, and ahead lay the peaceful quiet of the suburbs.

— — —

The drive felt short, and you spent it replying to messages from friends and classmates saying their goodbyes and wishing you good luck in a new school, or hoping you would come back to visit soon. Your replies, even to the people you called close friends, were half-hearted lies. You knew you weren't going back into the city for a while, especially with school starting soon.

Traffic-jammed highways turned into two-lane blacktop surrounded by farmland and forests, which faded into cookie-cutter homes and family-owned stores. It would be hard to get used to living in a neighborhood like this, but you would. You had to.

The route to your step-mother's house was familiar. A left turn on the main road, right after the coffee shop, then a right turn, and another left. The house at the very end of the street, just off to the left was your destination. It was beautiful, but in a different way from your apartment.

A front porch painted white with a shingled awning, a wood swinging bench off to the right. The two-car garage and driveway were off to the left, along with the gate to enter the backyard. Dark blue siding covered the home, fading red brick supporting the foundation. White window frames dotted the home. You couldn't tell from the front, but the backyard was fairly large and accompanied by wicker furniture and a beautiful garden.