Moving Day

I enter my room and look at the great white walls that were once decorated with posters and paintings. I look over to the window and notice the absence of the dream catcher I hung up there 3 years ago. I gaze over the cartons filled with all of my memories of my room. Cartons labelled with pink paper are stacked near what used to be my wardrobe. I take a last breath of the warmth of my old room and walk out the door.

There are movers all over our house picking up the cartons and loading them onto a moving truck. My mom is ou

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t on our lawn reminiscing her favorite memories made in that lawn. Her flowers that would always have a glow on them grew sad and dull. My little sister is running around the empty halls with her best toy , Gerald. Gerald was my best toy too when I was little. I used to carry him with me everywhere I went. When I lost a liking to him, my little sister took care of him. My dad is out on the driveway making sure the movers are doing their job right. I was taking a last stroll through our house when my called out for me, “Lexi, it’s time to go.”