What is a family?

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same, except perhaps for the dark windows. She remembered the place as full of life, so vibrant and humming with the hopes and dreams of the youths who lived there. She put her hand on the gate leading up to the now empty house. The autumn rain had chilled it to the point where it stung her hand. She ignored the cold and pushed open the gate. It creaked and groaned, but it swung open surprisingly willingly. Before moving on she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She gathered her strength and opened her eyes back up.

As she took her first steps into the garden, she was reminded of the first time she had stepped into this place. She had a backpack that rivalled herself in size. It had contained just about everything she owned when she moved away from what little she had before. Two guys who introduced themselves as Paul in room 1 and Rajesh in room 6. They had been sitting outside when she arrived, and they welcomed her gladly as if they already knew her.

Her childhood hadn’t been easy, but she knew of many whose life stories had started out much worse than hers did. Her parents weren’t cruel or abusive as such. There was dinner on the table most nights, and there were usually clean clothes in her wardrobe. Still, her mother seemed only to care for the people in her soap operas and her cigarettes. Her father worked all day and all night, and when he finally did come home, he only wanted to lie down on the couch. For her over the years as a child, ‘family’ gradually become something akin to that of a neighbour.

She had tried to make friends with the other children at school, but most attempts only awarded her bruises or hurt feelings. The only place she felt safe and comfortable was in her room with her nose in a book, so that is where she stayed. After years of hiding alone, her patience paid off. She could move somewhere new and put everything else behind her. At 19 years of age, she could finally start living. And maybe, just maybe, start that family she never had.

She continued walking up towards the stairs leading up to the front door. A note on the door caught her eyes. “Warning: Scheduled for demolition on Tuesday 15^th of November. Coming soon: A new, luxury apartment complex. Contact our sales representative today for a virtual tour of what could be your new home.” Today was the 14^th. She had made it in time.

Pulling on the door handle, she found that it was locked. No matter. She knew this house well. There were other ways in.

Heading around the corner, she stopped at the tall bush just beyond. She examined the spot. She reminisced back to how she tried her first joint there with her friend Janine in room 5. The smoke had burned her throat and lungs, and she had coughed violently while Janine laughed. Still, it had felt good. After they had smoked what they wanted of the joint, they had tried making out in the garden shed. She recalled Janine’s lips as sweet and soft, but there had been no electricity, no fire. They never repeated it, but they would later jokingly refer to it as the day they knew they were straight.

She continued along the wall and found the cellar window lower down by the ground. She hunched down by it and gave the lower left side of it a couple of raps with the soft side of her fist. The lock popped off from inside and the window opened.

She put her legs through the open window and tried to scoot inside. She wasn’t as strong and limber now as she was back then. Not as slim either. Whenever she had forgotten her keys to the house this had been a quick and easy secret entrance, but it wasn’t so easy anymore. It took a bit of a struggle, but she got in.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out a flashlight. She moved cautiously up the seemingly half-rotted basement stairs and found herself in the main hallway of the house. She was surprised to see that a lot of the furniture were untouched. Even the mail-shelves on the wall by the front door were still here. One shelf for every one of the twelve people who used to live here at any given time. Some of them even had names on them still, but the names she remembered were long gone.

Everyone else used to get mail delivered here from their friends back home. She remembered how she used to watch them as they read their letters. Sometimes they got happy. Sometimes they got sad. Whether the news was good or bad, it was proof that someone back home thought about them. To herself at the time, every letter the others got was a reminder that nobody back home thought or cared about her.

The girl in room 11 had caught up on this early and began to leave small gifts for her now and then. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her keys. They were all attached to a cute but worn-out bunny keychain she had found in her shelf on her 20^th birthday. She squeezed the keychain in her hand as a little smile grew on her face.

“Sweet Sarah… Thank you.” She whispered as if her old friend was standing right next to her. She felt her resolve strengthened by the reminder of her friend’s love.

She turned around and followed the hallway down to the kitchen. As she entered the doorway to the kitchen, she made a surprised halt. She expected the place might be in rough condition, but this room looked like it had seen war come and go. Most of the kitchen had been disassembled, and any kitchen appliances removed. Sold or stolen, it had left the room looking like a plucked chicken.

She pointed her flashlight towards a table standing by a window in the corner. She had her first date by that table. Ryan in room 3 had asked her to eat with him. She had been embarrassed for months about how quickly and happily she accepted. Unbeknownst to him, her crush on him had already lasted for about six months at that point. She remembered thinking she wasn’t good enough for someone as funny and handsome as him. She allowed herself a smile now, considering how wrong she had been back then. How eager he had been to get to know her despite how complicated her shyness made it.

It was a sweet memory, but the sweetness of the past only made the bitter present worse. Her eyes grew watery and her lip quivered. She sighed deep and took a moment to gather herself.

She turned around in a sudden motion and walked away at a brisk pace. She headed back to the entrance hall and ascended the stairs to the first floor. The creaking stairway hadn’t improved. She recalled how it had betrayed many of her attempts to sneak back in after a late night out.

As she got closer to room number 8 she slowed her pace. The door was already slightly ajar. With a hesitant hand she reached in and pushed the door open. She took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath again. This proved harder than she thought it would be. She opened her eyes and took a few steps inside.

This used to be her room. It had been her room for six years. At first, it had been just a roof over her head while she studied. Instead, the place had ended up becoming more of a home than she had ever had before. It was where she learned that it was more common that people were good than she thought. That most people liked her for who she was, despite what the children in her past had shown her. The people here had given her strength she never dreamed she would have. She reminded herself that strength was still there, even if it felt wavering now.

She went farther into the room and sat down on the dirty, run down bed in the corner. She ran her hands over the mattress. She had given her virginity to Ryan on this bed. She had been 22 years old at the time. She remembered how clumsy she felt. Before and during. How worried she was that he would find her lack of experience boring. After, as they cuddled, he proved her wrong yet again. He held her tightly and whispered sweet promises that he would never go away. Even when they much later learned she could not bear children he had comforted her softly. He told her that they could still have a family. That families came in many sizes and varieties. He had kissed her forehead and repeated the promise from that first night. He would never leave. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. She wished he had been allowed to keep that promise.

Walking back out the door she continued down the hall. Every step she took now felt like they grew heavier the farther she got. She had almost reached the end of the hall when she stopped and faced the door there. The metal number 3 on the door had fallen and lied on the floor in the dust. She bent down to pick it up. She tenderly wiped it clean with her sweater. She examined the number as she recalled back to before he asked her to dine with him. The times she had stood in front of this door, wanting to knock, but not daring to.

She decided to put the number into her satchel before she breathed deep and brought her hand up to the door.

“Please. Let it still be here…” she whispered to herself.

She started pulling on the handle. The door wasn’t locked, but it seemed stuck. It came out a bit, but it fit tightly in the frame. She planted her foot to the wall and grabbed the handle with both hands. She pulled hard, and with a loud scraping squeal it came loose.

The inside of his room was about the same state as her own. It was dirty and empty save for the bed. Overwhelmed by the emotions brought by the memories in the room, she stumbled her feet inside and fell to her knees by the side of the bed. With a trembling hand, she traced the outlines of an engraving on the bedpost where the letters “R & A” were crudely carved. Ryan and Anne. She remembered how he carved the letters into the wood the last night they lay in that bed. He wanted their memory to remain in the room when they moved out together. Started their lives together. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. Her tears poured down her face, and her wail echoed down the hall. She had kept her emotions in check for so long, but it all became too much.

Her memory threw her back to more recent events. To Ryan in his hospital bed. Still with his confident smile on his face, despite being nothing but skin and bones. She had stayed at his side through it all, but nothing the doctors tried had worked. She had been forced to come to terms with the fact that the life she had planned for them would be cut short. The last night Ryan was alive, he had weakly whispered to her a request. ‘Save our memory from being demolished’ he asked. She understood what he meant and promised him she would do whatever it took to see it done.

She sobbingly gathered herself up from the dusty floor in the empty room and wiped the snot off her face with her sleeve. She sniffed and tried to clear her throat as she reached into the satchel and pulled out a short hacksaw. It took time as the saw was dull, and her skill with it low, but she managed cut off the top of the bedpost. She held the piece in her hands as she crawled up to support her back to the wall. She cradled the memento in her hands as she caressed the engraving with her thumb. Her tears dropping from her cheeks onto her hands and the old wood.

“Anne?” a voice carefully asked from the hall.

“In here…” she replied with a worn-out voice, not taking her eyes off the engraving.

Janine entered the room and looked at her with compassionate eyes. “Oh, sweetie… You found it.”

“Yeah…” Anne said fighting back another sob.

“Sorry, your cry was audible all the way outside and I couldn’t bare staying away anymore. Do you need some more time for yourself?”

Anne looked up at Janine with red eyes and a smile. “No, I think I’ve had all the moments alone I can handle right now…” She forced a small chuckle out between small whimpers.

Janine entered and went over to the window. She opened it, popped her head out of it and shouted out of it “OK, guys, you can come now. Ryan’s old room.”

It took them a few minutes to all climb through the basement, but all her friends from the house came inside, one by one. Sarah, Paul, Rajesh, Will, Cassandra, Michael, Elena, Tim and Monique all came in and surrounded Anne as close as they all could fit. Anne’s tears were unstoppable, but she smiled and laughed as they all struggled to get in on the massive group hug.

Ryan was gone. Nothing in the world could change that, but her family wasn’t gone with him. There was still 10 more people in it. 10 people who dropped work, their own lives, their own problems, all to meet her here in just a day’s notice. 10 people who now held her tightly as she wept. 10 people who had always been there and would always continue to. She wasn’t alone. She was loved, and that was all that mattered.