What They Don't Know

Moving out

As a kid, I was never much of a go-getter. I would always hang out in my room like a noodle thrown at a wall, usually reading or just surfing the web. But now that I'm eight-teen I'm moving out of my home in Kansas City, Missouri to some random house in Little Rock Arkansas to go to the University of Central Arkansas.

As I slap my bed to push off of it one final time I look around the walls covered in posters out of novels and musicals my favorite hanging over the back of my door part of the title is covered by other smaller posters. "H_ _THE_RS" is all it reads. All I have in my room other than an immense amount of posters is a small desk tucked away in the corner of my room slightly past a window that shines the sun's light directly onto a bookshelf chalked full of horror, romance, and drama novels. pushing off like a diver into the great unknown I slide out of bed, but instead of sliding into the ocean to find a hidden treasure I plant my feet firmly and search for my clothes. after getting dressed I slide into the restroom to check myself before I rush off into the world like some uncanny traveler like Bilbo Baggins leaving his hobbit-hole that sadly resembles my room minus the modern tech. my unkempt blonde hair is quickly pushed to the side by a comb that I then shove in a small little baggy. I straighten my collared shirt and shove a light hoodie over it. I go back into my room and pull out a suitcase full of clothes and a backpack that has barely anything in it. Leaning over my bed I grab a laptop, a notebook, a sketch pad, and my pens off the desk all the necessities for travel. before leaving my room one last time I grab a book at random "The Wizard of Oz" slides out of my hand and into my bag landing against my laptop and on top of my notebook. while readjusting my bag I hear familiar heavy footsteps dragging down the hallway. 

"The grizzly himself the best boy in town Sam Chancellor!" My dad yells as he slides through my door. 

"Hey pops," I let out with a chuckle sliding the book carefully into my backpack. "you're up early? Did I wake you?" 

"Of course not kid, I just didn't wanna miss you on your way out." He said chuckling to himself the thought of me leaving soaked into his expression like water to a sponge. the expression then squeezed as tears rolled down the old man's cheek cutting into the cracks and crevices of his worked face then wiped into the dirt-caked hands which had taken care of me for so long. seeing him cry tore me apart like a child tears paper. I stood up pulling him in, hugs were never my thing they scared me the closeness of there heart to mine felt too official to me. his tears quickly ended after my arms wrapped around him. 

"I'm gonna miss you old man," I said, this time wiping my own tears on his shoulder. I release him from my tight grip and grab my stuff. "I gotta head out soon I have to meet my new 'parents'." I push my head into his chest and slide out of my room into the creme covered walls of my home. the walls are almost barren a desert of nothingness but a few pictures of me and my dad. Sliding against the empty walls I feel the slight urge to turn around and go back to sleep but I keep going forward no real idea why. 

After loading my car I turn back to see my father holding a picture frame. "I, uh, got you this for your room." He flips it to show me a picture of me and him when I was young. I was holding his hands and pushing against them to lift myself off the ground. I lay the picture carefully into the passenger seat and hug him one last time. 

The hug felt like hours. I pull away saying one final I love you I buckle in and start the car. Sadness plasters both of our faces as I slowly shut the door and start to drive off. 

The ride was long and boring. Nothing about that was fun or could've made it fun, is what I thought as I pulled into a driveway leading to a three-story house. the walls were an Ivory white and the with a multicolored garden of dancing yellows and reds. a couple standing at the doorway with what I assumed to be there kid. the father was tall and round with a graying beard. The mother, however, was the exact opposite short and skinny with a brunette tent still shining through her wavy hair. I hop out of the vehicle grabbing my bags. walking to the house I see a giant cross on the porch and multiple small crosses lining the flower bed and surrounding area. 

This will be fun...