first day
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Maine was exactly as thought.
Heavily forested and busy, but friendly. Even when the fog is thick and the air stings at your nose there's people about yet somehow it's quiet, silenced by the sounds of birds chirping and the swaying tree branches. It was peaceful, and the people residing had no idea just how shaken that peace would become.
My father told me that you can't heal in the same place you were broken. Maybe thats why we've moved 7 times now, healing is a lengthy process apparently. He always seems happy, greeting our new neighbors and hanging up our family photos on a different colored wall every other year. And mother never complained, she worked from home so it never really bothered her how many times we moved.
Me, on the other hand, every new house made me feel... guilty.
i knew that i was the cause of it, my parents would never say so but they don't have to. i see it in my fathers eyes every time he sits down to sign a new housing contract. nonetheless they've always been supportive of me, i am their only child after all, who else is there for them to pour their love and support into?
"how's the apartment looking?"
i glance up at my mother from the kitchen island, she looks back as she unpacks a box of utensils, "i've got pretty much everything unpacked, it's got a nice view too."
she nods and holds up a butter knife, "you better keep it clean. lord knows how many dirty socks i picked up in your rooms."
i rolls my eyes and grin, "well as long as you avoided the stiff ones," she grimaces, "i'm 22 now, i can handle it mom."
"i just don't understand why you chose that neighborhood, it's practically deserted."
from the other room a voice calls, "Richie, come help me with the couch."
I set down the box of plates i was holding and head into the living room to see my dad standing in the front entry way, wiping sweat from his brow. i take one side of the couch and we start moving it to the other side of the room.
"this is the last time, right?" he looks at me with that look he always gives me after asking that.
"yes dad, i promise. i'll behave."
"that's all i ask," he sets the couch down and sighs, taking a seat, "I hope you like this college more, i've read great things about it. they even have a coffee shop on campus."
"if the professors aren't a bunch of closed minded assholes, i'm sure it'll be fine." i sit next to my dad and look around. most of the boxes are unpacked and the Uhaul is empty of furniture. outside the window the sun glimpses in.
"i'm gonna head out now, my classes start soon." i pick my bag up off the floor and yell out, "bye mom! i'll be back tonight!"
I head out the door and jump into my old Toyota Corolla. The university isn't too far so the drive was short, passing through forests of trees and small mom and pop shops.
pulling into the parking lot you could smell the rich and privileged infesting this school. my parents make quite a bit of money, but it's never got to their heads the way i assumed most of these young adults let it be.
Welcome to the University of Maine
Walking through the doors it was quiet, like the rest of the city. much different than California or Texas. I walk up to the front office and smile at the woman peeking over her computer back at me.
"Stan." she calls
I raise my eyebrow, "no, Richie." i correct
"not you, genius."
