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It takes hands to build a house, but it takes hearts to build a home.

Those words were the first things I saw when I walked into my English classroom a few weeks ago with my hands full with books and pencils and pens sticking out of the mound of hair on the top of my head that couldn’t even pass as a bun. My shoulder weighed down by the boulder that is my backpack.  My hand trying to keep my flute steady before the case would clatter to the floor. While we all settled down and took out our books and binders, I scanned the room. I saw countless faces staring with confused looks on as we looked at our teacher holding a stick pointing to the words that everyone was trying to mentally decipher.

Everyone but me.

That day was one of our journaling  days, but instead of it being a free write like on a usual day like that. We were instructed to write something based of the quote on the board. Of course as everyone stared at their journals with blank looks on their faces, I scribbled furiously on my paper, my hand, mind, heart, and soul working as one.  My friends looked at me, their faces vacant of emotion. “How in the world are you writing so much and so freaking fast!?!” One of my friends yelled in a whisper. I just shrugged my shoulders in a silent gesture meaning I don’t have an answer to that one man. My friend huffed in pretend disappointment but actually started writing a few sentences. In fact, everyone else started to write a little bit as well. As if a curse was uplifted amongst everyone in the classroom.

I guess everyone finally understood what home really meant.

I had been living in various apartments ever since I was brought into the world. First a tiny apartment with one bedroom. Light always filled the room and I remember looking through pictures with my mom and i would see me. But smaller, I so small in my mothers arms with her beaming at me as I looked at her my eyes wide with wonder as the sun kissed my hair. When I was about three or four we moved into a different apartment but at the same complex that the previous one was owned by. This one was a bit bigger but with the same necessities. Most of my childhood was spent there. My cousins and I painting our hands with mud and smacking them against the wall outside the building. Our tiny hands depicting innocence and a carefree mind. The summer when I was a second grader going onto third grade, we moved into a two story apartment(same complex area) two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The carpet was plush when we got there. I being the senseless young girl I was wondered how I was ever going to make this empty vast space a home when I had left one behind.

It took me a while to realize that home was where ever the people I loved were with me.

Years have passed and we have made so many memories. It was the place my sister was born into, it was where I realized that words and books are my soulmates for life. Hypothetically speaking, it was the place where I finally realized that home is a not a place or a thing, but a feeling.  I am twelve(going on to thirteen) now. I had moved to that apartment when I was eight so it’s been four years. I have transubstantiated from that young absurd little eight year-old into the somewhat of a decent teenager I am now.  My eyes understand the world better than they did four years ago.

I started to think I want to live in a place we can call our own. My parents were quick to agree three years into our living there. They searched multiple websites, picking up flyers they found when an open house popped up somewhere near us. Of course they wanted to find a place that was close to school. They searched and sorry if I was being selfish but I was getting anxious. I would constantly send messages to God praying that we would find a place of our own. My mom always says that god will always answer your prayers if you try hard enough and if you believe that it will happen. I live by that everyday. I don’t let my flame die down and my determination is in me like armor that can’t  be penetrated by the deadliest bullet.

My wishes were answered and struck me when I least expected it.

It was about a month and a half before today and I was sitting at the kitchen table. I was (re)reading one of my favorite books called Silent Luna as music pounded in my ears. One of my favorite quotes from that book was:

“I thought I had died when I was alone…

‘Till you found me here and brought me back home. “

I legit am not kidding, right after I read the sentences(that also made me mentally break down)my dad told to my mom:

Dad: We got the house.

Mom: ….

Dad: We got the house.

Mom: ….

Mom: *eyes widen* Really?!

Dad: YES, COME LOOK!

My mom looked close to tears of happiness, and my dad looked super happy but his eyes held a thousand thoughts. My little brother’s face seemed blank and confused like the What the heck is even going on right now. I for one didn’t know what to think. Have my parents really found a house? We’re seriously once and for all leaving and apartment? For good? Thoughts clouded my head one by one; though I still managed to get the right idea registered into my head, even through the obscure smog in my head drowning anything lucid or comprehensible that entered my conscious. Of course I was on cloud nine and I was joining mom, brother and sister with jubilant cheers. But I was wondering why my dad said that they got “the” house and not “a” house.

I asked my dad about it and he said that they(they meaning my mom and dad) had actually seen the house a few weeks before since it was(extremely) close to school. But then the real estate agent told them a few days later that the house had been taken. My mom told me that, that house seemed perfect and they couldn’t let go of it. So they kept hope that it would pop up for opportunity again. Now lets get back to that night.

My parents talked to each other more about stuff like remodeling and prices of essential kitchen and bathroomy(???) stuff. Of course me being the eccentric(and frankly the dorkiest person on this planet) intelligent seventh grade female I am, I daydreamed instead. (Wait it was actually like seven or eight at night so would that mean just dreaming or like, okay you know what never mind your missing the point.)

I was making plans in my head:

I could start a garden and make my bedroom look super minimalistic and rustic. I could maybe even add a few decals here and there. And obviously I need a huge desk and a swivel chair thats super comfy, and a cute little nightstand next to my bed. Oh! I could also get a NASA poster to put above my bed or maybe I could get a solar system model that I can hang on the ceiling above my bed. I could also get a Ravenclaw banner and put it somewhere. Or maybe get a little Ministry of Magic sign…

“-Kanmani, Kanmani, KANMANI HARIVENKATESH!!!” My mom and dad both trying to salvage me back to reality.

*Picks up a tennis ball and chucks it across the room* – My brother

“What the-” *Smack*

My head snapped up and heat creeped up my neck as I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why I wasn’t paying attention to their(undeniably boring) financial statements and planning. I also ended up having to rub the side of my temple as it was throbbing from BEING SMACKED BY A FREAKING TENNIS BALL. *ahem* As I was saying, my dad then asked me “You wanna see a picture of the house?” I wanted to scream HECK YEAH! but I kept my composure and with a blunt nod I instead replied with, “Yes I would like that very much.” Probably to formal on my part, but who cares. My dad pulled up a tab on his laptop that had a google maps location that lo and behold featured a cute little cottage like house. The stereotypical California beach house. Excluding the beach of course. It had light brick red accents around the window and door frames. As well as on the garage door and the poles upholding the porch roof.  It had beautiful rosebushes in the front yard, with a pebble pathway winding around the chaparral and brushes surrounding it. The windows were very wide in width and tall in height. A tall white fence lined the left side of house and the side yard. The titanium white paint had chips of its reminisces peeling off, exposing the timeworn wood underneath.

My dad zoomed out so we could see a satellite view of the house. Please keep in my that before my dad actually showed us the house on his laptop he told us that it would take at least an hour to just get too school. I was quite surprises at this because my parents key task was to find a house that was close to school for both me and my brother. I was getting suspicious and I was debating whether or not I should believe what my dad told me.Wow thats a really big school. With another school beside it! Wow. Too bad I have to drive for an hour just to get to mine. But then my idiot of a mind realized something. My house was adjacent to my own school. Like I literally have to walk like three feet from my property and then I walk across a bridge and than BAM I’m on the school’s property. I was so happy that I finally didn’t have arrive at school like two minutes before class starts. My parents beamed at me as I continued to gawk at what was going to now be my home.

O N E  W E E K  L A T E R

My dad drove forward and turned left and out of the apartments parking lot. We drove for a few minutes before taking a left to a neighborhood that was right across from the park and a few blocks left of City Hall. We turned and we drove past a bunch of other houses, each one the same style but of them having there own aspects to them that seemed to make them all seem different. Making it all diverse. Not anomalous of course. Soon my dad parked into the driving of what was our house. In real life it was even more surreal for me. Soon enough this place was going to be my home. I knew that it would take at least a month to remodel most of the house, like the bathrooms, kitchen, roofing, painting, etc.

My dad said that the realtor was going to give us the key. Since he wasn’t there yet I decided to just explore the front of the house. Apparently my parents and my brother had the same idea. I stepped out off the car and straightened my shirt and jeans. I retired my shoes and walked out to the front and joined my parents. The window on the front was huge and obviously very aged but I instantly fell in love with the way the sun streamed down on it. While my parents talked I decided to go to the bridge that was above the canal where I could walk to the school field.I stood on the bridge and watched the water in the aqueduct below flow and trickle.

Suddenly I heard a sharp, HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII coming from a voice we didn’t recognize. I turned around and saw a woman  grinning from ear to ear.

Her: Hi are you guys our new neighbors?

My Dad: Yeah we will be moving in once we finish remodeling, it will take about a month.

Her: How exciting for you guys! This is a great neighborhood and the location is perfect.

Her: Hi whats your name? *looks at me*

Me: *sweating bullets* My name is Kanmani, so nice to me you

Her: What a pretty name! I have never heard such amazing names like your families

My Dad: *chuckles* Thanks so much for coming down here to say hi, which house do you live in?

Her: *points to which one is her house*

T I M E  S K I P(cuz you cant really expect me to remember that whole entire conversation and assume that I can recall the whole thing and sit in front of this computer the whole time all in one sitting.)

Her: Well I better get going, goodbye! So nice to meet you!

All of us: Bye!

She turned back and walked along the road back to her house after waving goodbye Wow she is so nice, I hope I can meet everyone else here. What a lively women. I thought as I traced the patterns on the wood Soon a car pulled up and a man stepped out who I recognized as the realtor that I saw on the card my dad had. He shook my dads hand and shook my moms, then mine. He and my dad discussing things briefly, they joked around with my brother and me before he went reaching into his pocket and taking out a key ring with one single key on it with a little blue key chain. He handed it to me and said you wanna do the honors? I slowly nodded my head as I took the keys from his grasp. I plastered on a smile but my mind was just like:

WHY AM I DOING THIS I SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS I AM REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD WITH KEYS AND LOCKS I MEAN SERIOUSLY I ALMOST BROKE A LOCK ONCE I REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THIS WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

I pushed the key into the lock and turned until I heard a click. Doing the same with the lock underneath. I pulled the key out and opened the door giving myself a mental pat on the back for successfully  unlocking the door without destroying the lock and the foundation. And trust me, I can be very destructive when I don’t mean it. One time I was making pancakes with my mom and I managing to break the measuring cup that was holding flour, FLOUR. Yeah the substance made of grains(and other stuff I don’t know)that you put in baked goods.  How is this possible, I don’t know. Anyway, I was just glad I didn’t manage to destroy our new house without even walking in yet.

We all stepped in and inhaled, breathing in the smell of the aged walls and wood. The walls were an decrepit old white-the results of years and years of standing as a white wall. We all stepped inside, the window in the living room had an old chandelier hanging from an intricate metal hook screwed into the beautiful wooden ceiling. I loved the wooden ceiling and gave me cabin-in-the-woods kind of vibe. We stood on floors that were completely covered in carpet similar too the one we had in our apartment. The house reminded of a lodge, perhaps my dad had the same idea when he first saw the house. Yeah I should ask him about that. Anyway, we all wandered the house individually. My mom and my little sister went straight to the kitchen, my dad outside, my brother went down the hallway to the bedrooms, as I followed suit.

I followed my little brother he stopped in the doorway of the first room, It was not to small or too big and I was able to picture(quite well actually)my brothers stuff in this room.  My brother stood his ground when he said that he wanted this to be his bedroom so I backed off and saw that there was a bathroom on the other side of the hallway. I continued my descent to see the other two bedroom awaiting me. Right next the the bathroom was a large bedroom with another bathroom in it. This one seemed perfect for my parents to fit their bed and my sisters crib inside so I went to the last bedroom. I stepped inside, and I instantly decided that it was mine. It was slightly larger than the room my little brother chose. My parents caught up with my brother and I and they started going from room to room. I stepped out of my room(YES IT IS MY ROOM NOW ACCORDING TO ME)and saw that there was a closet right next to my room, the closet facing the bathroom. I opened it and saw it line with ledges to place wooden square boards or shelves to store things in.

I explored more of the house but soon enough my parents called me to the backyard.

I closed the door behind me but it hit the door frame with a slam that made everyone jump. The metal mesh of the old door shuddering and scaring the heck out of everyone. SO I was just like: yEaH dAd FIX IT BEFORE IT STARTS ACTING LIKE A FLIPPING DEMON AGAIN.

Anyway, we all just hung out sitting on the concrete. I starting fiddling with a bunch of weeds. I starting braiding the dried stalks as my parents started talking about remodeling, demolishing, stuff like it. Soon my little sister started getting super fussy and my brother was getting bored. I too had some reading to catch up on. We all settled into the car. But soon my parents ushered us out because apparently one of our new neighbors decided to greet us. I stepped out and was greeted with a blond women who had on thick black glasses and was grasping the leash of an adorable(and fluffy) white dog. The man beside her(who I assumed was her husband)was very tall and had glasses on as well. They both had friendly smiles and shook each of ours hands. I kneeled down and petted the dog and scratched behind its ear as it nuzzled my palm with its nose. My parents talked about the house and introduced each of us.

Turns out there names were Angelica and John. They are both very nice and Angelica runs music lesson in her house. She turned to me asking questions like, “Do you go to this school?” stuff like that. Then she asked,

“Do you know Arwen?”

“Arwen, Arwen the flute player?”

“Yes that one!”

“Of course! She is one of my best friends!” I cried.

“Thats wonderful, she is one of my students”

Soon we said our farewells and drove home(the other one, the apartment one, you know what never mind). It was around seven o clock when we arrived home, my brother went to sleep, my dad and mom discussed more stuff as my mom made dinner my sister on her hip. And I, well, I was upstairs in my room just thinking. About everything. I was going to be moving in less than two months.

I ran a hand through my hair a grinning like an idiot. Man. I really need to start getting packed.

The time between my parents finding the house and us officially moving was a blur. Everyday slowly was more busy for my dad then the last. He was constantly in and out of the house, when the contractor needed some material he would be there and instantly jumping up to do the deed. Slowly he started growing more irritatible and my brother and I tried not to disturb him whenever he had any moments of peace. Every time I told him that the needed to rest more he would always just shrug it of and say “its just how it is.” It took me very little time to understand the meaning of that specific statement. He has been working so hard on this house. He would show us pictures of the house that he would take when he would go there and conduct everyone’s work. So yeah, we didn’t really remember what a “normal” lifestyle was anymore. But thats okay because it was all worth it.

Without the help of a few people though, we wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything. My uncles(my dads older brothers)gave us some money to pass by(Babu periyappa), and you have no idea how much that has helped with the process, my other uncle giving wonderful advice and helping with each step(Sekar periyappa). Sekar Periyappa was the one who pushed my dad to buy a house, keep looking, find the best for us. Also my dads ex boss and his brother(Rajiv and Ash Gujaral) Mr. Rajiv was the one who told my dad about this house and literally BOUGHT it for us. Mr. Ash Gujaral was the one who gave us the extra money to help with the remodeling. They both were also a massive help and they were very beneficial, financially. Like I have said in previous posts, I am constantly surrounded by so many incredible people that I honestly don’t see myself living without. My friends, family, even the kindness of strangers.

Mankind, it is so underestimated. We have so much power over our own future and destiny. All of it constantly resting on the decisions we make every day, and our actions. Karma, is another thing that I think that should be taken more seriously. Good acts lead to good blessings, bad actions lead to a horrible fate. Whether it be simple or intimate. Your actions can leave a massive footprint on what will happen in your future. My parents have been waiting, fourteen years, to find a house, like an actual house. Not some apartment. They have worked and prayed, and now we have been blessed. I have been blessed with these amazing two people that I can call proudly, my parents. And every single person who managed to help, even just exchanging a kind and supporting word. You are well appreciated, just because you care.

Loyalty can mean different things to everyone or the same to a group of people. It is either a personal definition or something you contribute(or would like contributed)in actions and decisions that show your allegiance to a group and or a specific person or society.  An example of loyalty in my family is if one member needs something or needs help in a situation my dad instantly jumps in and tries to find out the circumstances without hesitation. An example of loyalty between my friends and I is quite similar to what my family does. If my friend is having a rough time or he/she gets into a situation they don’t want to be in we all stay by their side until the rough tide washes over. Loyalty is something that no matter what should be a quality that friends, family, and even schoolmates or colleagues should have. It is a trait that is treasured by people wise enough to choose friends to surround themselves in who can have that characteristic in their bearing and have it in their mind and conscience.

I also learned something.

Worrying is basically betting against yourself.

The month went by so quickly as we lived our lives around what was going on at the heart of our minds. Soon enough we started packing, I stowed away my stuff in boxes, throwing away or donating whatever I didn’t need. Packing was just a pain in the neck. I expected it to go in like breakneck speed but it was just a nightmare. Everyday seemed to bring on more stuff to pack than the last. I don’t think I can look at a moving truck without cringing. Just thinking of it can make my brain hurt. Honestly I wish I can just be like every other character in Harry Potter and use a shifting charm or something. But alas, life isn’t that easy.

Gravity.  Art thou a provoking pain in the everyday life.

Every single day, my parents worked their butts off packing up everything in an organized fashion. That organized fashion being me chucking lotion and other bathroom necessities into a ginormous cardboard box labeled “BATHROOM” in the weirdest block letters known to humanity made by my hand. My parents seemed to have planned literally everything when it came to packing. What boxes to use, which items go where, how to transport whatever object of use that should be taken but it is quite large in size. My mom is a whiz at organization, my dad does everything else.

Soon enough, it was October 26. The day we were supposed to move into the house and have the pooja. .

A pooja is basically a ceremony that we Indians do to honor something. We do it a lot. Its kinda our thing.

Of course I was forced to wake up at like five or six in the morning. And let me tell you, I DO NOT like waking up early in the morning. Even on a regular day when I have to wake up for school, I just curl up and lay there like an idiot, then my dad barges into my room and rips the(four layers of)blankets of my body like a barbarian. Then I squeal like a pig and chuck a pillow at my dad leaving my dad howling like a demented crude savage. (I honestly don’t know how pillows can physically even hurt, this is my dads logic alright? So if there is anyone to judge, it is my father).

Anyway, that day I felt even more sluggish than usual. I had my backpack ready and sitting in a corner of my room along with a  change of clothes inside because after I showered I shimmied myself into traditional Indian attire for a girl like me. The top part of it had sleeve that got cut of at the end of my shoulder, SO NO WAY WAS I GONNA WALK OUT THERE WHEN IT IS BELOW SIXTY DEGREES AND MY HAIR IS WET UNLESS I AM WEARING AT LEAST FIVE EXTRAS LAYERS OF CLOTHING. But alas, I was brought down to only wear one jacket. OH THE HUMANITY. *obnoxious sigh*

Anyway, we drove to the house and honestly I was blown away. It was still dark outside(due to it being like six in the morning) i complained that it was freezing and I was wearing VERY thin socks with my flats so I started complaining that the fabric of my outfit was very thin and instead of making me warm it was making me even colder than I already was. But my mom just gave me her Mother Knows Best lecture:

Me: Ma, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME WEAR THIS IT IS SO FREAKING COLD HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SURVIVE OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE.

My Mom: Kanmani, you rarely wear traditional clothing like this and this is a very special occasion so it is only proper. Besides, would you do it for me. Please? *gives me her very sad puppy dog eyes and pouts her lip*

Me: *breaking down mentally and trying to look away from her adorable sad eyes* ahhhhhhHhhhhH.

Me: Humph.

Me: Fine.

Anyway, we got there and climbed out, I shivered when the cold air hit me like that dodgeball that smacked me in the head during P.E. one time when I got way into into the game. I hopped out of the car and lost my balance briefly when the heel of my shoe got caught on a vine. This is why I HATE flats, they pinch, and hurt, leave your feet all sore, and are just a pain(pun unintended)to walk in. I shook of the vine and continued walking in the cold cold night(technically six am isn’t considered night, but it was dark out and you know what just deal with it alright?). My dad unlocked the door and we all walked in. Walking into the house in real life was way different than looking at pictures on my dads phone. The entire house was pristine and the wooden floors were so shiny that I could see my own reflection in then. Of course I managed to slip on the the wood but I caught myself HA TAKE THAT GRAVITY. Anyway, I walked around the house. The kitchen was amazing and everything had changed so much. The kitchen was amazing, my moms eyes literally lit up when she saw how beautiful it was.

I strolled down to my room and chucked-haha just kidding-placed, my backpack onto the ground. I admit, shuffling around in a puffy skirt with sequins on a polished hardwood floor with very thin, slippery socks is not a wise thing to do. Not my idea of a productive morning. Especially since I was still groggy with sleep. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, my little sister crawled to me so I picked her up. She wriggled in my grasp before she settled herself on my hip, her curls bounced when I took each step towards the center of the empty living room where my dad was seated on a gaunt sheet with intricate threading. I sat back down, trying my best to not get the fabric of my skirt caught on the sequins of the cloth.

I was shivering because of the cold rushing through the door which had a circular hole through it due to a new knob not being place there yet. Never underestimate the power of cold weather and a two by two hole in your door.

My dads friend is a Hindu priest(Vishwanadan uncle) so he decided to conduct the housewarming ritual that I don’t know, basically connects us to the house and good vibes for the house and the people living there(aka us). So he arrived and arranged a bunch of stuff on top of the fancy smancy blanket like fruits, coconuts, other stuff. Oh and bricks. Yep, yeah, totally normal. Well technically in my religion yeah and I am not trying to offend anyone so please don’t go all SHE HAS OFFENDED HER OWN RELIGION OH MY FINICKING GAHWD. No first of all its just a cut of speech god. Anyway I sat there of to the side holding my sleeping sister in one arm and keeping my hand at a specific angle because my dad wanted me to film the whole thing on his phone. My wrist was starting to hurt and my other hand was falling asleep. This was not good considering that fact that my first class was Spanish aka the class where I have to write to the point where my hands feel like they are going to spontaneously fall off.

What uncle told my parents to do was actually quite interesting to watch. He told them to repeat the mantras he said to them, or my mother to stand up and take a dried grass broom in her hand and rest it on my fathers shoulders, whilst with him still sitting down. Soon enough it was seven twenty five and I was starting to get quite anxious to change out of my clothes and get dressed for school. I looked behind me and into the large window and there stood Subi and her dad

My parents let them inside and then went to sit back down to continue, Subi and her dad entering hushed, knowing Thulasi was sleeping and not wanting to disturb the pooja and its continuation. Subi sat down beside. She being one of my best friends understood that I  was not very comfortable holding that phone up so long so she held the other end. My hand relaxing a little bit, we both watched until finally they were done. It was seven thirty five and I freaked out a bit. MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAAAA  I AM GOING TO BE LATE WHAT THE HECK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. I grabbed fistfuls of my own hair and almost ripped it all out. I sprinted to my room grabbed my floral print sweater dress thingy and went to the bathroom. I rushed to take of my skirt and blouse. The skirt fell down my legs and pooled around my ankles as I slipped on the dress and my gray trench coat. I strapped on my watch and put on my gray beret and put my backpack on my shoulders and ran out of the bathroom like I was being chased my the Chimera.

“KANMANI HURRY UP YOUR SORRY BUTT BEFORE WE’RE LA-*sees that I am ready*-that works too.”

She rolled her backpack behind her as she trailed behind me briskly. My mom shoved mouthfuls of idly(amazing South Indian food that I love to eat)and chutney into both of our mouths as we stepped outside. My parents waved goodbye as we walked to the gate. We both sprinted across the field(I still in flats letting my feet slowly die because of lack of bloodstream IN MY FEET)the smell of rain and fresh soil filling our noses. I had Spanish class so I didn’t have to go far. I waved goodbye to Subi and slowed down to a intermediate jog until I reached the front of the classroom. I stood there and tapped my foot until finally I saw my friends lumbering down the hall and walking towards me. I had my arms cross but I was still slightly panting from RUNNING ACROSS A FIELD WHILE STILL TIRED AND FILLED WITH SLEEP.

“What the heck happened? You look like you just ran across a football field without stopping once.” My friends smiled, amusement in there face.

“Dude I did.” I said my hands on my hip and my back pressed against the right white wall of the classroom with my knees crossing the other as there eyes bugged out, the question why? written in both of there deep blue eyes. “Dont worry the bell is about to ring anyway.” I said nonchalantly despite everything that I wanted to say before heading to class in the next forty six seconds. “No, I want to know now!” He said pouting like a spoiled child.

“Besides how do you know that the bell is gonna ring, its not like you can predict whats gonna happen in the next thirty seconds…. Wait can you?!?!?!” He said looking EXTREMELY confused. Whilst I still had a smug look on my face before holding up my hand counting down the second with my fingers.

“Three…Two…One….”

“No w-”

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG

“-ay” He said finishing off his sentence.

“What? I am physic.” I said in conclusion as our other friends crowded around us as I slung my backpack over my shoulder while I heard my friends chatter and ask me why my friends looked like they wanted to shove a brick down my throat. Señora Amerson suddenly opened the door saying “Buenas Dias” while everyone entered the classroom. I sat down in the desk while Brianna and Dillon sat in the desks on either side of me. Our task for the day was too go around the room and launch a conversation in Spanish with each person. On the list I received from Mrs. Amerson I had the names(I’m not gonna put the real names so here are the alternative and SUPER creative names I came up with:

1. A Person
2. Another Person
3. A random person
4. Person I do not know

So basically all we had to do was say a conversation with someone else in español. Simple. One person asked me:

” Que haces los fines de semana?”

(What do you like to do over the weekend)

I responded with:

“Me quedo en casa escuchado música y pienso demsaiad.”

I stay home, listen to music, and think too much.

Yup, basically sums up what I do in my free time or over the weekends. My parents call it wasting away, I call it quality time with me, myself, and I. (And binging every single Harry Potter movie in the existence of the universe. That is a priority as well.)Anyway, the next three periods were a blur for me really. Until Core when my English teacher randomly asks: “Is anyone’s family about to move into a new house or already has?”

Wow, how ironic.

I seemed to be the only person who had raised my hand in the entire class, and may I remind you, there is literally thirty other students in there. The classroom was dead silent as my face turned red, the teacher explained a hypothetical theory about the changes and differences someone’s mind will experience when living in a different space. I have nothing against my English teacher bu honestly, I didn’t think we needed to know this statement because this was ENGLISH CLASS, not PHYSCOLOGY. Everyone started asking me questions about my house and how I feel about it and if I like the house. HECK YEAH I LIKE THE HOUSE. English went smoothly after that. We wrote essays on what we think about society and blah blah blah blah BLAH. I went on with it I guess. I mean all we had to do was say what we think are the pros and cons of modern society and if it should or should not be made better.

All I gotta say is that everyone has there opinions and I’m not the person to judge those opinions.

Gods that essay was deep.

Anyway, I walked back home with Subi and we talked about random stuff like how much we hate our hair and how horrible the schools statewide tests are. Our brothers were behind us talking about stuff that I honestly am to lazy to explain. We walked across the bridge while Subi freaked out because she was afraid the bridge was gonna break and we would all fall into the canal underneath. But we didn’t and instead we were met with a gigantic U-Haul in front with stuff from our apartment in it, like boxes of books and stuff. I saw my dad and Subi’s dad unloading the truck and leaving it on the doorstep while our mom’s took the stuff and put them in each room. Subi and I grabbed our brothers and literally D R A G G E D  them to the door and ushered them in. Walking in ourselves and dropping our backpacks on the floor. We decided to help out my mom a bit and take care of my little sis while we did homework. We grabbed our stuff and went to my room where Subi sat down and was working on a some history project while I worked on science. Okay well more like doodling on the margins but still. My sister fell asleep in my arms so I wrapped her in a blanket and put her in a more comfortable position. All was quiet and peaceful until suddenly:

*CRASH*

*BANG*

*R I Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z *

Apparently the sky didn’t like us so it decided to go all demon and unleash its rage on the roof.

Actually it was a guy working on the roof but ya know. Same thing.

We both cringed and looked at my sister who was still sound asleep like a baby. No, wait that doesn’t work because she is a baby. Please excuse my inactive intelligence in hypothetical speech.  Of course me, Subi, and every other person in the house had to suffer and make sure there ears didn’t bleed through to there noses. My mom took Thulasi so she wont wake up, but dang that baby can probably sleep through the apocalypse.

Anyway, Subi had her lips in a grim line and she noticed my facial expressions mirrored hers. So we got up , dusted ourselves off, and went outside to see if we can distract ourselves. We went to the living room, random boxes strewed around the floor. Flowers petals scattered miscellaneously from the pooja that morning. Our moms were sitting on the ground, there backs leaning against the wall as they spoke. Subi and I went to the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. I was literally starving because the only thing I had eaten the entire day was that small bite of idly from this morning(I was and idiot that day[well technically I always am but ya know]and decided to skip lunch and just hide in the library like a griffin and read.

Any who, my stomach grumbled as I walked around the shining kitchen. My mom had leftovers from food she made this morning for the pooja BUT the majority of it got stale from being out in the open. I spotted to little containers with a red velvet bundt cake and a chocolate bundt cake that Subi’s mom had bought. Our parents said we each can open one and eat some of it but try not to spoil our appetites. I grabbed a red velvet one(its my favorite)whilst Subi grabbed a chocolate one. We went to my room this time, which had piles of stuff in it. We sat down on the ground and ate tiny spoonfuls. My dad called us back out and said he was going to buy a pizza, so we all sat around at the living room and uhh, did….okay I admit, I forgot, because….. I didn’t really care at the moment. My dad bought the pizza and we sat around and ate, talked, laughed, normal stuff. You know. I could get used to this.

Four Months Later

Sunlight streams through the window, lighting up the entire room. I stretch, the cold morning air tingling against my face. I check the time on the white clock mounted on the wall next to the window. My bedroom is lit up with the bright light of the morning sunlight. I slowly get up, one foot clothed with a sock, the other bare, the sock it bared the night before tangled in the sheets. My feet land softy on the gray and white striped rug. I rub the sleep out of my eyes. Stretching once again. I grab my glasses from my wooden nightstand, the bottom shelf overflowing with books, a wooden crate filled with magazines like Popular Science, Time, and National Geographic, bookmarks strewn miscellaneously. I grab my IPad and place it on my ginormous wooden desk, an old-fashioned one with drawers and shelves on one level. Drawers on the underbelly of the desk as well. I grab the tiny water spritzer I keep on the windowsill and spray the plants and succulents on my desk.

I turn and walk out of my bedroom and to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The sky window high above letting in rays of the sun, making my hair seem to glow, my glasses glaring against the mirror. I finish brushing and cleaning out my braces. I go back into my room and tidy my bed. Greeted by my little sister who tries to reach my sketchbooks on my book stand. I pick her up and twirl around, our giggles filling the house. My brother is still asleep, my dad in the main bedroom on his laptop working, gives me a curt nod and a good morning. My mom is in the kitchen making tea, popping four pieces of toast in the toaster, the backdoor is propped open by a block of wood.

After breakfast, we all go to our huge backyard, my brother awake and energetic, dressed and already on his bike. My parents seated on the glass table, the large umbrella providing shade from the sun. My little sister bopped up and down as my mother cooed and sang nursery rhymes, my dad with his eyes closed, perking up to the constant sounds of birds tweets and chirps. I go over to the tall tree and put my foot in the bend. Pushing myself up, my elbows prop up on the strongest branch. I start thinking about how much it took to be here. How many people have helped, how much my parents did for this. Even after we moved in, there was still work to be done, my dad hired so many different people throughout the course of the month. But we have done so much and I can not imagine myself to be anywhere else.

I feel like the luckiest girl alive to know that we have a place meant just for us. We were able to make this dream, this dream we’ve slept with for so long, we have made it a reality. Our reality. Wishing something with happen isn’t going to work. Sure the mental positivity is a good thing and I have absolutely nothing against it but… Its the good, hard core work that really balances the structure. The blood and sweat that our house has in its aura varies by different peoples. I feel like I haven’t done that much in the entire process. But I do know one thing. You can’t underestimate the power of determination, trust, and intellectualism. I made it. We made it.

We made it all the way home.