From Home, To A New Home

A Story by Brennan Garcia

As I stepped into the light casted by the headlights of my car, I felt a sense of peace that wafted over me as if there was nothing more natural in the world. The reflection of events, both old and new, set me off like a bottle-rocket in July. I was never the sentimental type; I was never one to dwell on past events as if they were significant turning points in my life. However, that day was different. My graduation began as a stain in my memory that perpetuated a certain sense of angst that only cured itself with the humor and loyalty of my friends that I had known since Freshman orientation.

The ceremony, that all-encompassing gathering of people who’d I soon forget, began and went the same way most events transpire in my life; slowly, then faster as the ending draws nearer and nearer. The voices of my fellow peers and their parents slowly died down as my principle, almost shedding a tear, began to open her mouth and speak. Her words were drowned out by my sporadic thoughts that never seized to bounce across my mind. As her voice began to die down as well, I and many other students came to the realization that this was our last day of organized and expected school. We didn’t have to go anywhere if we didn’t want to and our days of innocence had long been stopped.

As the ceremony ended, I was greeted with an overwhelming heap of families scrambling to take pictures with their graduated son or daughter. I struggled to find my own parents; I was lost in a sea of artificial smiles and fake anticipation for whatever came next in their lives. I couldn’t help but feel anxious about whatever came next in my life as well. After the pictures or “memories” I took with my family members, I felt as if I was in a blur. A blur that I couldn’t get out of. I walked through the crowd and out to my car. I drove and drove until I found a clearing that was far enough away, so that no one could see me.

I got out of my car as the sun was beginning to set and as the crickets of the spring were beginning to sing their songs. The hood of my car served as a lounger for long-term thought that night and I couldn’t have been more comfortable with the sweet solace that being alone bestowed upon me. You see, I had never taken time to properly say goodbye to my hometown. The town in which housed me for seventeen years. The town in which I called mine. Although, I had insulted it previously for being drull and underwhelming, it feels different when it’s your last day. I soon found myself growing increasingly tired, then suddenly, I was in a haze known as sleep.

My awoken state provided me with the realization of my departure, and soon enough, I was on my way home for one final visit. I found myself standing in front of my headlights wishing for more time, but I knew that this was more than farfetched. As I parked in the same spot that I had parked in over hundreds of times, I felt different. What was I feeling? I couldn’t fathom it. I walked up those old steps and onto that front porch where my sibling and I had played all those years ago. Stepping through the door, and walking through the house with everything boxed up conveyed a sense of abnormality. This didn’t feel real. I didn’t want to feel anything. As I loaded up the rest of my things into my car, I took one last look at my childhood home and thought of my life thus far. Deep down, a part of me knew what I was leaving behind and that part of me knew I would miss it. I entered my car and as I started up the road, the world around me faded away and started a new. Turning the corner, I thought about a lot of things, but one small detail never faded from my mind. That house that I grew up in was left with nothing but the penciled lines that indicated how much I had grown from year to year.