03 : pack or nap

158 3 1
                                    

Do I pack my bed

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


Do I pack my bed..
How do you pack a bed?
Do I buy one?
Is there a bed?

I'm taking my black silk covers but the bed can stay, I can buy a new one.

I take a look at my almost empty crème room. Things are scattered but organized, suitcases everywhere.
I let my mind sink it in.

I'm not going to wake up in this room.
Another house, another place, another state.

Not just any state, not just New York.
My old home town. We are moving to motherfucking Crawington.

My father told me at dinner after I pushed him. At first he murmured something I couldn't make out but as soon as Noëlle knew what I was asking she was already blabbing about the whole thing. She actually told me every detail to the finest.

Crawington. It might be good to visit old friends. I've actually kept in contact with my home town friends. One more than the other.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

I grabbed my phone and clicked on her contact to call.

"Hey pen." I grinned.

After my 20 minute call I went packing with a smile on my face. I was exited to see Her, him, my old friends.

When I was in elementary school. I met them.
Jenevive, who I call Jenn-mostly pen- for short and Roy.

Both of them where my bestfriends from when I was 4 to till I was 11. We where in a friend group of four with the bestfriend of Roy, Kai.

If you asked me he was the most utterly annoying person on the planet but if you asked majority of adults or people in general they would say he's as charming as they come for a 10yr old. But to me he was quite the bitch actually.

We always competed and he was arrogant and smug about anything he did. That didn't mean I wasn't. But besides the point.

We had this friend group for 6 years and we were incredibly close -minus kai.

But one day in summer vacation. The little family I created, the save space from it all- I had to leave behind. He told me after 1 year after her death that we would be moving.
1 motherfuck year.

He told me we would have already moved in the first 6 months after but he had a custom made house build and he had to relocate businesses things and fill in contracts.

He told me that he needed to go where he could be more, better, richer. He didn't get it.

I adjusted here. I mourned here. I started to heal here. They where here. They all where.

Bonded by hateWhere stories live. Discover now