Back to Square One

“Run! He’s coming from behind the tree!” yelled one of her friends. Maya’s heart started pumping faster as she bolted to the street. Her feet pounded against the pavement, and her legs burned. Her throat was sour and she could barely breathe now. As she ran, the houses on either side blurred, and the wind whipped against her face. All she could hear was her heart pumping and her shoes kicking the concrete ground. Maya slowed down as she glanced back over her shoulder. Brian wasn't chasing her, so she returned to the park. She saw all five friends sprawled out on the grass, exhausted. Maya dropped onto the grass beside them, staring at the clear blue sky. It felt like the world had come to a halt. She noticed the clouds slowly drifting from one corner of her vision to the other. 

But then the sound of her name snapped her out of her nostalgic daydream. Her mom’s voice called from the house. She sat up and looked around, disoriented for a moment. Then, her chest tightened. Her house didn’t look like the familiar inviting space it once had. An air of grief and uncertainty filled the air. The porch that had been her hideout during countless summer games now stood bare. The memorable decorations on her walls were gone. It looked like a stranger’s house, not the safe place she was used to, filled with joy and laughter. The silence was deafening. The refrigerator's hum was soft, almost silent, yet it seemed to echo louder, in the quietness, of her house, filling the emptiness left by the life it once had. It was persistent yet trifling much like the remnants of her happiness still present, but dimmed and reduced to a mere shadow of what it once was. 

The kitchen counters were bare, except for a nearly empty roll of packing tape and a box sitting next to the counter. They had to leave their affluent neighborhood and move across the country to Colorado. Her parents had lost their jobs and were in a desperate situation, therefore the only reasonable option was to relocate to a more affordable area. Her dad had also secured a lucrative job in Colorado, which felt like a lifeline for her struggling family. All their furniture had been sold for a meager sum of money, just enough to pay for one-way tickets to their new city, and the rest was being donated as they had no means of transporting it to their new home. As she taped the box, the roll of tape rolled up and stuck to itself. 

“Forget it,” she murmured out of helplessness and pure irritation. 

She taped the last box with the meager strength she had. Inside the box, the items would have looked ordinary and of little value. But to her, they were like fragments of her soul. Her favorite things that kept her sane, all steeped in irreplaceable sentimental value, were crammed together. Most importantly it contained a shawl, gifted to her by her grandmother. To anyone else, it looked ordinary as it was plain and simple, with little to no monetary value. But to her, it was the opposite. The fabric still carried a faint scent of her grandmother’s favorite perfume. It was like a memory woven into threads, and a tangible connection to the warmth and comfort her grandmother had always provided. It was irreplaceable. How could she let it go, and leave it behind after all those years? With a black Sharpie, she marked the box. Her hand lingered for a moment as if she was sealing away more than just belongings, but as if she was tucking away a piece of herself, her sanity, and what kept her alive. It felt heavier than it should have, burdened with the weight of sentiment and loss. With a heavy heart, she picked up the box and loaded it into the taxi. 

“I wonder what the new neighborhood is like,” her brother cried as he kicked his legs against the backseat violently. 

 Maya climbed into the car. She breathed heavily, trying to ignore the knot in her throat. She simply couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that they were leaving. She was leaving behind not just her home, but the pieces of herself that had made it whole. The familiar walls that had witnessed her laughter, tears, and growth were being reduced to nothing more than memories. She was leaving behind everything she owned, her friends, memories, and the life she had built, brick by brick. The idea of starting over from scratch in a random place, left her feeling hollow, on the inside, almost as if she was losing herself in the process. She could never have imagined that her life would reach such a point where she had no choice but to give in and accept the predestined. This was the place where she had grown up, where every part of the city held a cherished memory that shaped who she was. The ice cream shop where she and her friends would walk in the summer evenings. The other park where they grew up playing tag. She felt that the earth was slipping from underneath her feet. 

As they drove off, she looked back at the house one last time. Her vision blurred as her eyes swelled up and uncontrollable tears rolled down her face. As she looked back she saw the familiar walls shrink in the distance, like a fading dream. The street she had walked down a thousand times, with its familiar sidewalks and quiet corners, disappeared as well, blending into the horizon. 

 She then arrived at the donation center. There was no one over there, just a rusty bin ready to devour her memories and entire childhood. It looked like an evil menace to her life. Its metal flap hung open, as it waited, eagerly to swallow up every precious memory and cherished piece of her childhood and the ray of joy left in her life. The taxi was jammed with Home Depot boxes filled with her belongings ready to be donated. As she unloaded the car she stacked the boxes one by one, on top of each other. She glanced at the last one which was marked with a black Sharpie and had her name on it. Her legs trembled and her heart started beating uncontrollably fast. Every beat felt louder, faster, as if it were about to burst. She could hardly catch her breath. Her breath quickened and a rush of blood surged to her head. The world went quiet. Maya stood there, face to face with the bin. Her heart wrenched but her conscience had already given in, accepting defeat and giving up. 

Just then her mom honked, “If we miss this flight we’ll have to walk to Colorado!” She yelled. 

Her mom drove faster, and soon they were surrounded by unfamiliar highways and endless fields. With every passing moment, her heart sank deeper and her heart felt heavier as the sense of loss sank deeper into her bones. But her mind was clouded with uncertainty and fear for what was next to come. How would she start all over? All those moments and cherished memories, which she never imagined would come to an end, had now come to a halt. She stared out the window, contemplating the uncertainty and randomness of her life. It had unfolded in ways she never imagined possible until she was left with nothing but the painful task of letting go. But as she looked over at the sunset, its golden hues painting the sky, a quiet sense of peace settled over her. The day was ending beautifully and it came with the promise of a new beginning. She realized that even though things had to end, sometimes, the hardest goodbyes led to the most unexpected, beautiful new chapters of life.