From the Run Down Shed to the Familiar Scent of the Earth

As I turned the corner onto the street I used to call home I realised nothing had changed in the twenty-two years that I have been gone. The run-down shed we called a store was still standing, the rusting iron roof with holes as big as tyres and walls that creaked with the slightest movement of the wind. The school was still vertical, corrugated iron rusted and windows smashed. The starved dogs dragging their dust stained paws along the road. The dirty red strip between the houses that we called a road. It was all still here, just like I remembered.

This is it, I thought as I pulled up in front of the house that I had spent part of my childhood in. I sat in my car staring ahead at the familiar building, remembering back to the days when there was nothing to worry about. In what seemed to be the distance I could hear children playing and the light patter of pebbles hitting a car, before I snapped back to reality realising my car was the one being hit with stones. Glancing in the rear vision mirror the children scrambled away, all in different directions.

I stepped out, the crunching of gravel beneath my boots broke the silence now haunting the street. The light of the lamppost shone dimly as I made my way across the yard and up the steps towards the door hanging loosely by the rusty hinges. The lingering scent of dinner could be smelt outside, just how I remember it to be. I remembered back to the days when mother would call us in for dinner at dusk as father returned from work.

It was the same every night for nine years until the men came and took me and my younger brother. I vividly remember that night. All us kids playing on the dirt road as a car loudly roared down the dusty red strip. One minute we were chasing each other around playing tag, and the next thing I knew I was being ripped away from my family and my home, squirming in hope of escaping the grip of the man. I watched as my mother hysterically racked with sobs on the front porch of our house.

I looked behind me one last time before I took a deep breath, knocking on the decaying screen door. There was some rustling from behind the door before an elderly lady with large dark brown eyes, wearing a dirty worn apron poked her head though the curtain hanging over the shattered glass window. She quickly vanished before revealing herself completely in front of me, her dark brown skin wrinkled from the long days under the deadly sun. She stared at me intensely as though she recognised me. I couldn't stop myself as I stared back, the tears blurred my vision before soaking my cheek and then dripping into my now damp shirt.

"May I help you?" She asked as she stood her ground with a now concerned look taking over her once curious expression, as if she recognised from all those years ago.

"Mother" is all I could manage to say before collapsing into her arms, breathing in the familiar scent of the earth and washing soap. I sobbed as the woman stood there shocked at first, before wrapping me in her warm motherly embrace.