Two days passed since the final descision to move to michigan, we spent the next day boxing everything up and packing our clothes. We even already called a truck out to take our fridge, washer, dryer, and several other appliance; plus we sent our furniture and a few boxes so we didn't have as much to bring with us.
I guess you could say we are professionals at the whole moving thing. I mean, it took us until that night on the day of the decision to find a home and buy it. Plus, it only takes us 72 hours tops to pack our entire house-worth's of crap; also because we never finished the actual unpacking until two years later, so we always have boxes full of the things we never really use hiding in every closet around the house.
I, in my room, finish pulling down all my band and Olympic swimming posters, also everything else like family photos or random artwork that ended out really cool. When I finish stripping the last wall, I scan what used to be my room. Nothing on the walls, just plain white. The tan carpet stays plain too, besides the indents where my bed and dresser pressed it with their weight.
The room also appears extra bright, not only from the white/tan combo, but also from the sun shining directly through the wood-framed window, and bouncing off the walls. I don't really like that sort of brightness, at least not when it is a midday sun; if it is later in the day during the golden hour, I don't mind it as much.
"Wow, this room looks so empty!" my mom comes in and spins around to see all angles of the chamber.
"Yeah, well, there is nothing in here. Maybe that's why it looks so empty" I say, more just in annoyance. I wasn't really happy with the fact that I had only been at this school for three months since I was cut from it early, and it was the end of the school year when we first moved here. This sucks, since I didn't even really talk to anyone. I did hang out with this one group, but they would often skip class, so I really didn't have any friends. And when I was in swim, all of the guys slacked off because they were all "naturals", probably on steroids though. It was different from any other school I had attended.
"Aw, Logan. Don't be so sad. I know you will like Michigan."
"You don't mom! I haven't lived anywhere other than California! I am going to hate the snow, and I won't even have a clue about how things work there, or any idea where certain cities or places are located."
She comes by me and pats my back but I swat her hand away, I'm not a baby. "Honey, Michigan is a nice place. And the people there are really nice too." She smiles and then moves by my window, opens it and leans on the sill. "I know you will miss it here, but sometimes change is a good thing."
I begin to straighten my stack of posters, "Whatever. I have had enough change, and it still hasn't benefitted me yet." I walk out of my room to place the posters on the pile-up of boxes beside the rail down the stairs.
She follows out and pulls down the tapestries and photos nailed to the walls in the hallway.
I go down the hall as well, and help her take them off. "Why does dad really want to move?"
She studies her latest pull-down, "I don't know, I think he is just getting tired of California. He's lived here all his life too, you know. And, we've also discussed before, that we want to take you to Michigan someday. I assume he thought now was the right time."
"Well, it's not. He always moves me when schools are in the middle of certain lectures, and then I don't know what the heck they are teaching, and then I have way more studying to do than I should."
She stays silent the rest of the time while we finish the job.
"What are you two going to do about your jobs?"
"I don't know, but we will figure out," She takes the décor from out of my palms and goes downstairs with it.
I view the hallway, now it is empty too. It used to be all those decorations covering practically the whole wall, since my mom likes to outdo things. But now, it is blank, though instead of my white, it is an extremely pale yellow with light brown trimming. I follow down it, and check my bathroom. All that remains is the black shower curtain and a dark red rug; and also the soap and sink supplies. But nothing else.
My feet back out through the door, and I venture further to the end. My office remains empty as well. The hard wood floor reflects some light, as do the white walls; but there are no posters in here, and no furniture.
I move across the hall to our storage room. It also has wooden floors, but the walls are instead painted dark green. It stays dark in here since the blinds are closed, plus if they were open, a large tree outside blocks any view through the window.
Downstairs, my dad calls me down for lunch. I follow the rail and skip each step, turn to the right and going around the curving wall into the Kitchen. It, as well, looks really plain, the dandelion walls are lined with dark, mahogany trimming. There used to be black appliances and dark clocks or dark framed mirrors all around the counter and walls. But now there is only the black marble counter in the center of the room and the mahogany cupboards , even all the food is in extra large tote boxes on the counter and next to the walls. Even our coolers are stuffed with snacks, since my parents are very huge snack-believers. Sometimes, our meals would consist of just snack food.
"What's for lunch," I slide into a bar stool partially under the island's countertop. My mom places a bag of chips, a Hostess cupcake, and some fruit gushers in front of me.
"And if you're still hungry, we have pop tarts too," she wipes her hands in a paper towel and goes into the other room.
I look up at my dad, who is eating a cookies 'n' cream pop tart and looking out the large view window behind me.
"Don't we have any lunch meat or something?"
He laughs, some crumbs fall out of his mouth. "Logan, you know your mom doesn't buy lunch meat!" He keeps laughing.
I give up and move over to the coolers, looking for something that may be colder that an airy bag of Lays.
Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream.
Each one is full of ice cream. And all of those are vanilla or stupid fat free, so I decide, I might as well skip this and just take what I was given. I pull the bag of chips, fruit snacks, and Hostess cupcake off the counter and go back up to my room.
There, I open the food, turn on my music, and eat while sitting in the very center of my room; my last time to be in here.
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Hello! this is my third chapter, I thought I was going to finish it tomorrow, but I decided I might as well finish it now... and I did, so here it is! I hope you like it so far, it'll get even better after he gets to Michigan, right now is more just background :) please comment your thoughts and reviews, I would love to here them! :D
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Fake Sam
RomanceLogan- the typical. he's not always good with girls, never being able to understand their motives, but enjoys being around them. He's not a bad boy or anything, just about the opposite in fact. but, he IS a great friend, and always the one to depend...
