Of Colors and Water

I v o r y

These four walls that surround me seem smaller than before. Perhaps it's my things just lying around my new room or the ivory-color that has nearly blinded me. It is such a bland, boring, and distasteful choice of paint. How ironic, I take after its name.

Exhausted from picking up boxes all day, I lie on my bed. Heavy breathes escape from my mouth, and I watch them blow through my loose hair.

"Knock, knock, " My dad narrates before walking into my room.

"Hey," I huff softly. Every day since the move, it's been getting harder to keep my complaints quiet. And what is stopping me from saying anything? I simply haven't mustered the confidence too. Especially anything that has to do with our drastic move, this apartment or how I truly feel. I can't do it.

"All settled in Champ? The room looks great already." I know he's only saying that to cheer me up. He shyly smiles and sits on the bed next to me.

I move up and rest my head on his shoulder, sighing. "I know Ivy, this is all new for me too." He sighs with me, combing my hair with his fingers.

"We got to do something with those walls, it's so boring." He chuckles through his words.

"Your mother would have gone crazy with it. I picture her dancing around to The Beach Boys with paint-splattered over her face." His voice is almost hesitant to say another word but he does. "Y-You and Willow by her side helping." He burrows his head further into mine.

I picture her too. Laughing and singing, doing what she loved the most. Painting.

"I'm going to leave it how it is. Let my imagination run its course." I joke. He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, "dinner is ready." He says, before swiftly leaving.

For as long as I can remember, living in New York City has always been a dream of mine. The diversity of people and the mix of personalities has always drawn me in. It's such an enticing environment, one I would never want to leave from. Now it's the only thing I want to do.

It's nothing like back at home. Obviously. But change and I don't go so well together. How can someone simply welcome the idea of change and be okay with it? Sure, Minnesota isn't the ideal place to be. But, it was perfect for me. The same bus route to school. The local coffee shops filled with the usual. Even the gas stations and diners. All normal and a commonplace. No change, just the same. However, for lower Manhattan, it's nothing but different. One's word for it. Overwhelming.

I rush down the short flight of stairs and into my dining room to meet my father and little sister, Willow. Both are sitting at the table waiting for me to join them.

"Dad said you can help me paint my room. I want it to look like the inside of Rapunzel's tower." Willow crosses her arms, expecting no other answer but a yes.

"What- no!" I immediately shut down the idea and stare at my father with a disapproving look. He shrugs and pleads with his eyes desperately.

I don't want to be a burden to him. With everything else he has to deal with I take a deep breath in and submit, "fine."

My dad speaks up, "thank you."

"But that is the last of the painting. I thought I made it clear to you both, I'm done with it." I mumble. Irritation flows through me and suddenly I've lost my appetite.