Melancholy

A narrative I wrote for AP Lang. Not the best, but so what? The teacher like it. Excuse the fact that I ---- my name. I'm not putting my entire name on the Internet...

"Kara -------- ------ Name!" My mother's voice booms up the staircase, so loud that I hear it even while Rammstein pounds away through my headphones. I pause the music and get up from my position on my bed, hesitant. My mother never used my full name, unless she was severely upset. I make for the door and open it slowly.

            "Yes?" I say, not daring to step outside of my little sanctuary.

            "I've called your name multiple times already! Come here!" I sigh helplessly, hoping that I had not done anything wrong. I made my way down the stairs and into our living room. The room was not much to look at. Boxes and crates lay piled in every available space. It was only my skill of maneuvering that enabled me to pick my way through. I look around and find that my mother and step-father had cleared off the couch and were sitting there, looking rather uncomfortable. A sudden feeling of foreboding overcame me and I wanted to be anywhere, but there. My soft, warm bed called to me softly, yet my legs led me to the couch where I sat beside my mother. I held my tongue and no one said a thing. I rubbed my arms vigorously, for the air was frigid and bit unmercilessly at my bare, exposed arms. The heat had been turned off a few days before. A few moments passed, while my parents shot glances at one another as if sending signals to one another. My mother was the first to break the suffocating high tension silence.

            "Kara. You know that we've been having...money problems. You also know that we have to move soon." She stopped and I nodded my head, waiting for her to continue, "Well...Your father and I have been talking and we think it would be in the best interest for you to...to..."

            "You're going to live in Indiana with your father and Denise," my step-father burst in. My breath caught in my throat, and all I could do was stare at the two of them. My mind was working double time. Were they out of their minds? Send me to Indiana? I don't want to go! I loved my dad and step-mother. I really did, but I didn't want to leave Ohio. I had lived here for six years, and everything I knew was in Ohio. It was the middle of my eighth grade year. I was doing well, and I had friends whom I loved. I didn't want to go to Indiana, where I knew no one's name, and I definitely didn't want to be the new kid! I tried to voice my thoughts and tell them how I felt about the idea.

            "When?" was all I managed. My mum dropped her head and an air of depression was ever present with her.

            "Tomorrow," she muttered, avoiding eye contact.

            We talked for five minutes, before I was sent back to my room. I couldn't take everything with me, so I had to take just what was really important to me. I packed my clothes, a blanket and pillow. I chose to pack a few CDs as well and my plush rabbit, Momiji. When I went to bed that night, I had a hard time sleeping. My thoughts were racing, and I could do nothing to stop them as they made a violent, abrupt stop at my parent’s decision. Where did they get off making such a huge decision for me? They had just talked it over, the idea of asking me what I thought never crossing their minds. I couldn't bid farewell to my friends or get anything straightened out. I was expected to pick up and leave, like some nomad. I lay angry in my bed for some time, before I finally dozed off. Once in a while, I think back to their decision, and realize it was a really good one. It really helped me, and I think my anger was extremely childish.

            The next morning, at eleven o'clock, my dad arrived. I hugged him and forced a smile. He went with my mum to a different room and they talked, while I put my things into the car. Soon, the time came to leave and all that was left were the goodbyes. My step-father gave me a hug and told me to be good. My mother did not say a thing, instead giving me a long, strong hug and pushing my gently into the passenger seat. My father patted my shoulder, and tried to give me a reassuring smile. As we drove away, I turned and waved for as long as possible, until my mum was swallowed whole by a cascade of beginning rain.