The House that Built Me Solo

Rose leaned on the door frame, not sure if she wanted to go inside the house after all. The house was sold and everything was moved out, but her mother had not yet repainted the walls or turned all the rooms back to their original size. This was her last chance to say goodbye to the house she had grown up in. She wasn't sure she was ready.

Rose sighed, and took a couple steps forward, looking around at the empty-looking kitchen. There was nothing on the counter tops, and she knew all the cabinets would be empty. There was a big hole where the fridge had been, and the room where the dining table, chairs, and rug used to be was only bare floor. There would be no more of realizing she was alone downstairs, and thus could dance on the floor while getting a snack. There would be no more of their family dinners together, laughing about their days and dreaming for the future. There would be no more baking pies or other things in this room, getting advice from her mother. Not in this room, anyway.

The living room didn't have the couch in it, and lacked its past coziness. Rose would never again snuggle up with her family to watch something before bed in this room. The whole house seemed so big and so empty. It didn't seem right. None of this seemed right.

Rose went up the stairs, but slowly. She almost always went up these stairs with a destination. With somewhere to go and somewhere to be, always a steady rhythm of her feet on the wood. Her foot touched the top step. Wow. That would be her last time ever going up those stairs. Her family had taken pictures on those stairs, and she had climbed up them when she had barely learned to walk, wanting to be as independent as possible. She had slid down those stairs one at a time when she didn't know how to go down them any other way. She had even fallen down those stairs a couple times.

Rose peeked into each of her siblings' rooms and her mom's room, all of them bringing up memories of gossip and games. Talk of crushes and boys, late night "sleepovers" in her sisters' rooms. Undying support between the three of them. And going to undiscovered places with her brothers, making up scenarios and acting them out- fights and balls, epic adventures through time and space. But above all, every little conversation that had meant something to her. And they all meant something to her. Rose almost didn't go in her own room, but she forced herself to go in there anyway.

She turned the metal handle slowly, hearing the click of the door she had never seemed to notice before. Gently pushing open the door, Rose walked in, looking around. She closed her eyes, standing in the middle of the room and envisioning what it would be like if all her things were in here. She could reach to her right and right there would be her bed. And a couple paces to her left was her desk. The desk that she had used for so much. She had poured her heart into drawing, writing, and reading. This room had been so much more to her than her room. It had been her refuge. And her home. She would never ever stand in this room again. And that, in itself, was so sad. She opened her eyes and took two strides towards the far wall, the one with her window on it. Her eyes looked over the flowers, and she reached out to touch the wall, her hand hesitating. Only for a moment. Then she placed her hand on the wall, and stepped forward so she could rest her forehead there, too. She envisioned the wall sending messages right to the heart of the house.

"Daddy," she whispered, closing her eyes gently. "I miss you. Everything is changing, and it's really... it's really scary. I'll be leaving this house forever. And I don't know if I really can." She scoffed at herself, reopening her eyes and taking a step back, though her hand was still on the wall. "Wow, I'm talking to a wall."

Rose lowered herself to the floor, her hand sliding down as well. There were flowers on that wall. Painted flowers. She didn't know how long she sat there, remembering things about this room she didn't even know she had memory of. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour. Rose wasn't aware.

It was strange how she got so attached to things that never even mattered. A house, for instance. She would never again be in this house, and that was hard to think about. She hadn't thought about it when she had lived here, but that was the thing with things you love. You don't realize you loved it so much until it's gone. Rose didn't realize she appreciated this house so much as she had lived in it. She had even wished to live in bigger houses, more luxurious houses, kind of like the mansion her grandmother owned. She was going to miss this house so much.

She stood up, shaking. She didn't want to leave this room, because... because this would be the last time she ever did. She walked over to the doorway anyway, then turned around to cast a glance around the room, and to whisper one last solemn thing.

"Goodbye."

And that was it. She left her home. Forever. It wasn't home anymore.