"Violet , come on or we're going to miss our flight!" Mom shouts from downstairs. I roll my eyes, and stuff the last heap of clothing into my suitcase.

Moving day! What is the positivity of moving? I mean you leave everything behind. 'New beginnings Violet. Old ways won't open new doors. Trust me you're going to love California!' I remember my mothers 'wise' words

"I'm coming, I'm coming geez!" I shout back at her. This is it. I thought to myself. I have mixed emotions; depression, down in the dumps, glum, melancholy, but at the same time I feel, cheerful, content, delighted, elated, exultant.

I try to retrieve as much suitcases as I could, but to my astonishment, I only grab 2. Hey, God only have me two hands. The one hand that does everything, and the other hand that is like 'Uhm, how do you hold a pencil? '

I escalate down the never ending amaranthine, boundless, countless, endless,immeasurable,inestimable,interminable, limitless, unbounded, unlimited and infinite staircase. You get my point... Right? No? Okay.

By the time I reach the floor, I'm out of breath...okay not entirely true. But the world knows I abhor walking.

I notice my brother stuff his nose in his smartphone, communicating to something...someone.

"Hey, can you please give me a hand?" I ask him as politely as I can. He gives me his hand, literally!

"I don't know what you need it for though." He replies with a shrug, still avoiding eye-contact with me.

1. a person whom you are related to. sometimes a role model. sometimes an ass. sometimes a friend. a person who you are stuck being related to until the day you die through good or bad

2. A guy who is closely related to you, who pisses you off, be it older or younger. In my case, older.

3. Brothers may lurk around your room or even threaten to kill you. Many cases have shown that brothers are douchebags.

You: Hello, brother! How are you this fine day?

Brother: Go fuck yourself.

You: .. wh- what?

Brother: I'm going to slit your throat.

You: No you're not

Brother: IM GOING TO MOTHERFUCKING KILL YOU!

In conclusion, brothers are stuck with you for life. You can attempt several times to get rid of them, but they will keep coming back, no matter what. Its like there are 10 billion clones of them out there.

My insides scream, as I try to hose down, calm my tits, cool it, chill. Just before I get sent to a mental institution.

"No, genius. When I said 'give me a hand' it means lend me a hand, not deliberately give me your hand. Its an idiom; to help or assist, especially voluntarily." I sigh. Great brother I have! (IF you noted the obvious sarcasm here's a box of Oreos)

"Okay. Wait what now?" Looking absurd as ever. I sigh before I walk out the door, to the car, and my mom is waiting impatiently there.

"Is that everything?" She asks. And I try my hardest to not shake one's head, cause I still have several more to come.

"No." I let out a heavy breath; a grunt or sigh. Mom loads the 2 suitcases in the back of the car.

"Where are the rest?"

"Well I would be done, if you're worthless and good-for-nothing son had been at my aid. Take this into speculation. I am about to die, and here I am speaking in a manner which is needless or futile; in discussion or argument to make points which are not appreciated or heeded." I reply with a shrug.

She chuckles, "Agh, quit being so dramatic honey. He's busy with his phone again, isn't he?" I nod and she walks back into the house.

"Dylan, come on, and help your sister." Our mom says in a stern tone. He let's out a low, guttural sound uttered in frustration or disapproval. I don't know. We go up the staircase- I swear on Pumpkin Spice that this shall be the death of me! We get there and mom shakes her head

"What?"

"Why do you have so many bags?"

"Because we are moving?!" I say in a 'no shit Sherlock' tone.

"Yes. But I told you that you'll buy new clothes when we get there." She explains. I inhale a larger quantity of air than usual, and immediately expel it; to make a deep single audible respiration, especially as the result or involuntary expression of fatigue, exhaustion, grief, sorrow, frustration, or the like-sigh.

"Just help me already!" Mom and I retrieve 2 suitcases and Dylan, being well... Dylan attempts to grab 3, or what it appeared to be.

I wasn't quite certain if he reckons himself as Superman, or even better, as an assistant to another person, especially to one's superior or more important. person. Nah, he couldn't be Superman's acolyte or anyone's acolyte for that being.

We load everything in the car, and we take one last good look at the mansion that stood in front on us. A place I used to call home. So many memories to share!

•I remember when I attracted a string to the door and the other end to my tooth. You know what happens next. Yeah, ouch!

•Or when my sundae fell on the sidewalk.

•Learning how to ride a bike.

•Having my first crush.

•First day at kindergarten, middle school and high school. That is like my babysitter until I graduate.

•Finding out the real truth about:

°the Tooth Fairy

°Santa Clause

°And The Easter Bunny

•When my father passed away

•Becoming dauntless

Memories are forever. They either grow with you or grow apart from you. And they either make you or break you. Memories are meant to be treasured and you never really know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory!

I wipe the tear and smile at the view in front of me. Yes it was going to take time to heal, but I was going to be strong. I know my dad would be.

Goodbye New York and California here I come!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Frostbytexoxo