Side By Side

1.

A single day could mean everything or nothing, and it's absolutely impossible for two days to be exactly alike for any two people in the whole world. In the span of twenty-four hours a world can come crashing down or build a comforting roof over a persons head. That— all of that— was something I hadn't ever taken the time to consider but, like most things, that was going to change.

My dad was up front driving, my mom working the radio from the passenger seat, the Alaskan scenery flashing past us. Inside the car the dry heat blasted from the vents in attempts to keeps the cold at bay. I was swaddled in an over abundant amount of winter gear despite being inside a heated car.

"No, no! Change it I don't like this song," My dad exclaimed for the hundredth time, a grin playing on his lips. The sound of the vents nearly drowned out the cheery song crackling over the radio. Sighing and changing the station once more, my mom turned in her seat and rolled her eyes letting me know she thought my dad was ridiculous.

Mom was a very grounded woman. She knew her stance on what the world was and what it should become, and she broadcasted this through articles she would write.

Dad wasn't so much of a thinker, he was a do-er. His Grey hair that faded from blonde showed he had seen so much and could act on experiences, despite being rather impulsive.

They were special. They told me I was special too but I couldn't believe it, not with them as parents making me, and everyone else for that matter, seem ordinary.

I chuckled along with my Mom as my Dad playfully argued once more that this station would simply not do. A song on the radio I didn't recognize, something from the seventies maybe, blared all around me as my dad rotated the knob to turn it up too loud. I clapped my hands over my ears as did my mom, laughing and shouting for my dad to turn the music back down.

"Huh? What was that? The musics too loud!" Was his reply. The music and the sound of the heaters still battled for attention. Smiling adoringly as she always did, Mom reached to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

Her soft fingers grazed my hair and a semi skidded on the ice. Our little red car could never have stood a chance against the giant truck barreling towards it. Spinning, rolling, and finally flying towards a tree, the car crashed, making unbearable crunching and scraping noises that I felt in my bones as it went. I tried to scream but all that escaped my lips were strangled gasps and sobs. I was knocked out cold after that.

My parents were pronounced dead on sene. I was rushed to emergency care, where I remained unconscious and unaware my parents were dead for nearly three weeks.

I awoke in a daze still unsure if I was really awake. I wished with my whole body I was still asleep. I never could forget the smell of the hospital, a mixture of melancholy people and disinfectant; The smell often appeared in my dreams accompanied by a symphony of blasted radio music, air vents turned of high, and screeching metal.

I didn't get many visitors in the hospital— my aunt and cousin were my only living relatives and the only people to come and see me. Being the only family I had, my aunt took claim for me and would be my official guardian.

Despite having limited family, my parents funeral three days after I woke up, was filled with mourning friends they had gathered over their years of travel. It seemed like a person of every shape, size and colour had come to grieve. I sat in the front and watched the carnations on the boxes which contained my parents, not knowing what else to look at.

My parents were gone. I was never going see them fight over what played on the radio ever again, or watch them come home after a long trip away from our sleepy little town in Canada. I had to do the whole life thing with out the people I relied on most. That thought created an ache through out my whole body which I was sure would never go away. It resembled a sensation of sea sickness and drowning; dizzy and nauseous while also remaining in a constant state of anxiousness and uncertainty, gasping for the air that would make it all okay again.

The next five weeks was a haze of going in and out of the hospital, disassembling various furniture, and reminiscing while packing. Everything we owned packed away in boxes being shipped to Riverbank, a town in New York so close to the border it was practically Canada.

There wasn't much in Canada for me anyways; my parents had worked for a big time travel magazine, so travel was obviously in the job description. Ever sense I was born, they would take me to exotic places where my dad could take the most dazzling photos that complemented my mothers writing wonderfully. Our house was more of a rest stop rather than a home. My home was where my parents were, now I had to find a home in myself, which I wasn't sure I could do.

Besides, I much preferred my only cousin Melissa— or Lissa sense she dropped the 'm' in fifth grade— more than any acquaintance I might've had in Canada. We had grown up writing to each other, texting, and seeing each other when she visited Canada for the holidays or brakes in school. She was my best friend and I was hers. I never visited her in her town, mostly because it was just easier for everyone if they came to us.

As soon as all the boxes, as well as aunt Nancy and I were loaded into the rented U-haul, the journey began to the place I had heard so much about in the form of letters in Lissa's cursive hand writing and seen glimpses of in her snap chats.

Nancy drove the rental moving truck into the driveway of what would be my new house; an aged, brown gingerbread style house, with a dark green trim which looked suspiciously like the colour of my eyes. It looked almost identical to the house next to it but fit nicely into the neighbourhood. It was definitely the sort of house you would look at and leave you thinking of a home, warm and safe , but all it left me was a hollow feeling.

I could only think of my parents, and how they dreamed of living in a sweet little house.

My aunt Nancy flashed me a smile before jumping out of the van. The glass was cold on my forehead which I rested against the window listening to the sound of the back door of the truck open, revealing all my boxed possessions to the cold October air. I sighed and reluctantly propped open the door. There was a light layer of rain droplets scattered across the town despite it being the third of October. If this place was anything like Canada it would be cold and snowing next week or sunny with a heat wave.

Lissa brought herself to my attention when she squealed excitedly from the porch. Her bare feet pounded against the pavement and carried her towards me. Her perfect black curls fell around my messy, straight blonde hair as she smothered me in a hug. She stepped back and held my shoulders taking a good look at me. She smiled widely.

"Addi, you look gorgeous!" She gushed. I knew that was a lie. My hair was greasy and unbrushed, red blotches covered my pale skin from crying so much at the funeral which still hadn't faded, and dark bags hung low under my eyes from endless nights of doing anything but sleeping. Still, I smiled a ghost of a smile.

Lissa was a breath of fresh air. For the previous two months everyone had been asking how I was feeling and giving me pitying looks which told me there was nothing I could do to fix the the state my life was in. But not her. She just put her arm around my shoulder and guided me towards the house leaving Nancy to do all the work, which was fine because she wouldn't have let me do anything anyways.

"You're going to love it here. We can have sleep overs every night and you could join the dance team at school," I considered the idea of joining the dance team then quickly rejected it. I had been dancing for a long time, longer than I had been reading or writing, but I hadn't stretched or danced in over two months. Two very long months. "Oh speaking of school, I picked up your schedule and we have history together! you have the rest of the periods with my friends. I told them all about you and they're excited to meet you."

I was so glad Lissa was treating me like normal. It made me feel normal. Her happiness was infectious and I needed as much of that as she could spare. It made me feel a little less overwhelmed. I looked towards the house ready to camp in my room and make it as much as a home as I could manage.