Just one more bite. I shouldn't be eating this much cake, but it just tastes so delicious. "Sophia, get Jasmine ready for bed." My mother orders me to get off my butt and help out. She is busy in the closet packing our stuff for our flight tomorrow.
This hotel has been our world for the past week, this room is our home. I watch as my mother digs through our new mint suitcases, that have been stolen once before about 13 days ago. She hands me my little sister's soft cotton, Paw Patrol shirt and handmade pants that my grandmother gave to us before we left.
My sister surprisingly followed my orders and before I knew it, I was washed up and under the cozy white hotel covers. My mother turned off the lights as I settled into my lumber.
I had suddenly awoken to my father's boarish snore. Unsettled, I sit up awake in bed as memories from the past 2 weeks of my vacations flush in my mind like the waves that we saw on the first day. Carrying the ocean life, every detail and how I felt. I didn't want this to end. The friends I made, the people and memories I met at crossing limits higher than the sky.
What if I forget that I loved this place, or this place knew me? What if my friends forget me? Will they care that I'm gone? Will my cousins miss us? Will they talk to me after this trip, or ignore me like they always did before? Will everything go back to normal? My mind filled like bright cherry gumballs in a jar, with questions I knew I wouldn't stop thinking about until the end of time. I glanced at my little peaceful sister, remembering how she got over her fear of swimming in the greenish-blueish salty water filled with tons of creatures that could swallow us whole, that we call the ocean. I sigh. We have bonded closer than two peas in a pod over the vacation. I mean, I hope.
Out of nowhere a weird desire of walking to the balcony explored my brain, looking for the answer yes. Trying to fight it like shooing a bird away from bread, I carefully get out of bed, trying not to wake the fearful monster that lays peacefully in bed next to me. I walk carefully through a minefield of pool toys and clothes that we've collected like girl scout badges in the summer. I open the curtains to the sun bright moon glazing over the ocean like a sight I've seen only in movies. So surreal, I feel light as a feather that I could almost evaporate through the door and float to the moon. I slide open the normally loud by now quiet door and gently remove the screen door, just to step out onto the ice cold balcony with my still bare feet. The coldness evaporates into my soul making this moment so nostalgic, I feel as though I'm a small kid again running from my parents to find candy. The adrenaline flows throughout my body. I close the door for only a small peek of light from the outside to scrounge around in our room for some reason to stay. I hesitate pulling up a chair, risking getting caught by my parents. I inhale the salty breeze, as I stand nearly 800 feet from the ocean at such a height I could almost see another island. Why can't this last forever? Would I get bored? If we leave, why can't I just live in my dreams?
Forever.
But what is forever anyways?
