The house we were practically given was nestled back in a quiet neighborhood not far from downtown Manteo, literally a near perfect depiction of what a kid would draw; from the square shape to the triangle roof. It even had the small circle window near the point.
The covered porch and its accents gave what would have been a version of an ordinary child's imagination an overachieving child's masterpiece. There was even a porch swing and hanging greenery to go with it. The solid white color made it one of the few houses that stood out on this street as the Sun's light seemed to make the house glow.
No one would have even guessed the inside to be as big as it was either. The whole saying "it's bigger on the inside" was my exact thought when we first stepped through the front door. There was more space than what it gave off when you stand outside and for what two adults who lived a minimalist lifestyle needed. But Dad always said to be grateful for what you are given and never make the giver feel like you were rejecting their generosity...or something like that.
"I'm home!" I mouth silently as I kick my shoes off and shut the door behind me.
The moment I enter the kitchen, I eye the lone banana sitting on our counter, the curve facing coincidently toward me as if the banana were watching the entrance, waiting for the first soul to step through the threshold. Feeling like it was going to stare me down until I gave in, I snatched it from where it sat and wasted no time in peeling it open before turning heel back to the stairs.
I was just about to take a bite, when I could have sworn I saw quick movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn as soon as I noticed it, hoping to catch it in the act, but instead my eyes settle on the floor just outside dad's room.
From where I stand, it looks like a photo. I change direction, heading for it. The closer I get the more obvious it became that it was indeed an 8x11 photo.
Picking it up, the photo reveals a young guy, guesstimating around my age. His gaze was down, seeming to be working on the boat he sat in. By looking at it, he must have been unaware that his photo was being taken. My eyes focus on his black as coal hair. It looks like he just lets the wind do his style instead of a brush or comb.
I took a bite of my banana, continuing my examination. He was wearing a light blue tank, showing off his lean, fairly muscular arms. The color of the shirt seemed to have washed him out some, his skin was so fair. My head tilts slightly, taking him in at another angle. He wasn't bad looking, not quite gawking material like Will was, but he had a pleasantness to him.
It was a little odd that Dad had a photo of him, though. But remembering lunch, my wild opinions about my dad's boss, I thought no more of it.
Probably something to do with his job anyway, I think as I bent down and flicked the photo through the bottom crack of his door and continued on upstairs.
By the time I made it to my room, the banana was nothing but a peel that I tossed into the small silver trashcan next to my desk. I grab the earphones that were sprawled out on my desk and plug them into my phone as I drop onto the bed.
Quickly scrolling through my music, I find my calm playlist and fall back. Against the small voice in the back of my mind, I open my email once more. The disappointment is almost immediate given the time it took to load my messages was less than half the time at the beach. Nothing.
Dropping the phone, I stare at the ceiling, wallowing in my own self pity wondering where I went wrong in life. It didn't take long for both my eyes and my mind to feel heavy, and I allow the heaviness to consume me into darkness.
When my eyes slowly blink open, my room had gone from bright and cheery to dark and eerie. Only the dim street lamp from outside made it possible to see that I was still within the confines of my room. Was it night already?
The music in my ears had stopped playing, but the ear phones remained firmly planted in my ears. Had I been that tired? What time is it? The hand that held onto my phone raises above my head and I squint at its sudden brightness. Peeking through one eye, I focus on the screen. Both my eyes shoot open then.
4:02 am?! My mind screams. Why didn't Dad wake me when he got home?
I let the phone slip out of my hand back onto the bed as I bring both hands to rub the sleep from my face. I was awake. Fully awake. Only old people get up this early... Was this a sign I was getting old?
I move to my side, closing my eyes tightly. I lay there for a moment, hoping maybe sleep would take me again. Not a moment later do I roll back onto my back and open my eyes, giving up. My brain was already awake, contemplating about the days adventures that would probably not happen. I look back at the time. Sun was due to rise in a while. I have time to catch it.
Slinking out of bed, I mosey to my suitcase I had been reluctantly unpacking since we moved to get ready.
The thing I like most about sunrises and sunsets is that they are expected each and every day. In my ever changing existence it is those that I can count to be constant. I try and make a point to see them as often as I can. A kind of way I remind myself that there is hope that I, too, could live a constant and never changing lifestyle someday.
I make it out of the house without a sound and go straight for my bike, which was in the exact spot I had left it in yesterday. Throwing my thick brown hair up into a poor excuse for a ponytail, I kick the kickstand back and push off. The breeze against my face felt good from the mugginess of the morning dew.
Despite it having been thirteen years since I last stepped foot here, the area feels familiar, like I had lived here my whole childhood and was just returning back to my home town. I was riding like I knew where I was going, not even caring that I had no idea how to get home.
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