Moving Out
“C’mon!” my sister hollered. She was probably the most impatient and demanding person I knew. The more I ignored her, the more she shouted. It was getting to be too much. I had already been dreading this moment for weeks: moving day. My parents had sold our home, and we were moving across town to a new house, a new school, a new community.
Even as I was packing my last few things into boxes, I already missed the house. I brought my last box to the moving truck, put my stuff in, and went back to the house for one final look. It looked so different, as if it were just a plain, old house. I had no idea that was even possible, and a feeling of sadness struck me hard. Hanging my head, I felt anger and fear join my sadness. I didn’t know what was happening or how I could control it. I felt extremely confused. My eyes started to water, but I dried them. I didn’t want to look like a baby, especially in front of my surprisingly intimidating little sister. But, more importantly, I didn’t want my parents to see how upset I really was. I kept my face hidden, trying to hide the emotions growing inside me. I dragged myself out and left my house for the last time. …show more content…
This was the only home I’d ever known. I’d learned almost everything I knew here. It was one of the most important places in my life. I had always felt safe here. I was going to have to redo everything I’d worked so hard to achieve. There was no way I’d settle in a week before the start of school. That’s not easy. They thought everything would be a breeze, but I knew better. I would be all alone at a new school, and with my inability to make friends, the change wouldn’t be easy. I knew my sister was all excited and would have no trouble making new friends, but I wasn’t her. I didn’t cope well with change. I mean, some of my friends had moved, but not across the city! This was
“C’mon!” my sister hollered. She was probably the most impatient and demanding person I knew. The more I ignored her, the more she shouted. It was getting to be too much. I had already been dreading this moment for weeks: moving day. My parents had sold our home, and we were moving across town to a new house, a new school, a new community.
Even as I was packing my last few things into boxes, I already missed the house. I brought my last box to the moving truck, put my stuff in, and went back to the house for one final look. It looked so different, as if it were just a plain, old house. I had no idea that was even possible, and a feeling of sadness struck me hard. Hanging my head, I felt anger and fear join my sadness. I didn’t know what was happening or how I could control it. I felt extremely confused. My eyes started to water, but I dried them. I didn’t want to look like a baby, especially in front of my surprisingly intimidating little sister. But, more importantly, I didn’t want my parents to see how upset I really was. I kept my face hidden, trying to hide the emotions growing inside me. I dragged myself out and left my house for the last time. …show more content…
This was the only home I’d ever known. I’d learned almost everything I knew here. It was one of the most important places in my life. I had always felt safe here. I was going to have to redo everything I’d worked so hard to achieve. There was no way I’d settle in a week before the start of school. That’s not easy. They thought everything would be a breeze, but I knew better. I would be all alone at a new school, and with my inability to make friends, the change wouldn’t be easy. I knew my sister was all excited and would have no trouble making new friends, but I wasn’t her. I didn’t cope well with change. I mean, some of my friends had moved, but not across the city! This was