I stared out into the pitch-black morning. It was about five AM and very quiet. There was a huge lump stuck in my throat and I tried as hard as I could not to let my tears spill out. A single tear rolled down my cheek anyway. We were passing the tennis courts and the park. My eyes wandered from each familiar sight to another, and my hands were trembling. I could hear the quiet sound of the highway and I could see some lights flickering on in some houses. We passed by my friend Jean’s house, the house I’ve played at for so many years, the house of one of my best friends. The house that we had so many parties at, the house that we had pretended was so many things. In my mind, I said a farewell to Jean, to Alanna, to Nancy, Cameron, Roxy, Sarah, and everybody else I knew.
My family was moving from North Carolina to Texas. Moving away from the one place that I would ever call home. I knew that I would miss the cold mountains, the warm beach, all the camping trips, and my friends; I would miss everything in North Carolina.
A couple years before, my dad was notified that, if he wanted to, he would be transferred to Galveston, Texas. I was eight and I didn’t mind much. A couple of years later, the choice was final. My father would move to Galveston first and find a new house for us. At the end of the school year, my mom, sister, and I would move to Texas, after selling our house.
I felt like the world was crumbling down, right in front of me. Life was so unfair. North Carolina was my home, my everything.
Months later, we moved. My head was spinning and I was freezing cold. Not because it was a cold night, it was summer and quite warm, but because the string connecting my home and me had been cut by a big greedy monster. We drove until we came to the very end of North Carolina and started heading into the next state.
“Well, this is it, from this moment on, North Carolina will only be our past, and we’re moving on. Say goodbye,” my dad said quietly.
Tears stung my eyes, and they spilled out all at once. I didn’t try to stop them. They just kept on pouring out.
“Although my body is moving on, my heart and soul will always stay here, no matter what,” I said fiercely.
My sister hugged me tight and we drove past the welcome sign. She murmured something and then laid her head down on the pillow beside her. We’ve been through so much together, and we’ve always made it through. This wasn’t going to be any different.
I was pretty quiet the rest of the ride to Texas. My heart pounded loudly and my head ached in pain. My legs and arms were stiff and my eyes were forcing me to sleep, my mouth was drawn into a thin line, and I refused to accept that we were moving on.
“No, I’m not moving on, where my heart stays is where the real me will always be, this is just my body here, that doesn’t mean anything,” I whispered to myself “And that’s that.”