The Infinity Of Clouds And Us

One

I open my eyes.

I see streaks of sunlight penetrating through my glass window. It's five in the morning, the sun is barely up and the whole city is still asleep. I take five seconds to register the thought of getting up to start a new day.

I scan the room around me and I feel the urge to go back to sleep, but I know I can't. I shut my eyes for five more seconds then I stand up. My knees feeling like noodles and I stretch my arms to suck the morning energy in. I locate the light switch, it's still dark and the room is as gloomy as it can get.

I open the lights.

My eyes squint and takes about eight seconds to adjust to the light. I immediately see myself in the big mirror on my cabinet. I look tired. My brown hair messed up in every direction there is. I notice now that I forgot to change before I slept and see that I am still wearing the shirt I wore last night when I took a jog in the park. I focus my eyes on my face, not a pimple in sight. Everything is fine except for the scar on my right eyebrow. People say it looks cool, but I doubt they'd still say that if they find out how I even got it. It's not really a story I'd tell and feel happy about. I take a deep breath, preparing for the change that was about to happen.

Change. Change is coming.

I've thought about that since the day my mom told me we're going to move in her new husband's house. I wasn't excited, but I wasn't against it either. I have no friends in my school, only one friend in my neighborhood, I'm quite invisible and so I see no reason to hold back. I am not a nerd or the stereotypical person you'd read about who has no friends. I'm just bad at making friends I guess. I have been alone my whole life. But I never used to be like this.

Change. Change came and it changed me.

It all comes back to that day my dad died. I was eight years old and it was my birthday.

"Are you ready?" A familiar face peeks inside my room. She looks like me. She has brown hair which lightens up whenever streaks of light passes through. She's my mom. She gives me a soft smile and waits for my response.

"Not yet. Give me an hour at least." I say, returning the smile she just gave me.

"All right. But make sure you get ready by then because it's going to be a long drive ahead." She reminds me. She smiles one more time before turning around to leave without saying another word.

I pressed my lips together and glance at myself one last time before I put my attention to the boxes I had stacked beside my cabinet. My room is cleared except for the photos I had hanged on my wall with wooden clamps. Photos of black and white clamped on a string attached above my bed frame. These photos are the ones I took from last year and I hanged them up because it reminded why I liked photography. The photos I shoot tells a story, and sometimes it makes me live in another person's shoes.

I started to unclamp the photos and put them in a small red box. It makes me feel secure and assured that my photos are safe. I take one last look in my room before finally heading out.

I go down and see the house so empty. I couldn't find mom, maybe she was somewhere getting ready for the big move. I dashed in a northern direction and find myself outside. The sun hasn't completely risen yet. The grass in the lawn soaking wet from dew and I continue walking. I cannot keep a steady mind today. It's as if I'm hesitating and questioning myself if moving was really a good idea. It is. The only thing that might hold me back by any chance is that one friend I had that I mentioned earlier. I'm going to her house right now. Her house isn't far from mine, it is just two blocks away. I arrive at her porch and I reach in my right pocket. She gave me my own keys to her house and I was there to return it and say my goodbyes.