Wanderlust and Snowflakes 

My family and I used to take road trips all the time. Sometimes they would be far and sometimes they would be close. Sometimes we would take the big van and sometimes we would take the Jeep. I used to get very carsick. When I got older the nauseous feelings stopped. 

Sometimes I got to choose a friend I wanted to bring along. Every time it was the same girl, Brianna. I called her Bria.  

These drives were long and boring so Bria and I would have to make them fun. I would look out the window with my sister and Bria says, Those mountains look so close, but we are so far. They were far away and we would drive hours till we had gotten near it.

Along the way we would play the license plate game, eat snacks, watch movies, try and read… that never really worked out. It didn’t last long till every one of us was sleeping. 

Hours passed and we finally made it to the first snow. We are here, a shout from my little sister wakes us up, Pull over please dad. We jumped out of the car. Bria and I ran right to the fluffy powder laying down in its coldness. 

Dad brought a tube and we slid down this little hill. I threw snowballs at Mom and my sisters.  Snow gets up my boots and I feel it melt. I don’t mind though. 

Sometimes I wish we could always have a snow day. 

Photo by jr4125 on Flickr

Echoes From Room 102

   The day rolled around at the beginning of August when it was time to get our new class for the year. For years I had been waiting to get the same teacher all my siblings got in 5th grade.
   Come on mom, hurry up.
   Wait on minute honey, no need to rush.         
   I was so excited to finally see my friends again after months of being apart during summer. I finally strolled up to the office desk. The lady searched through the files. When she pulled out the one with my name on it, I grabbed it straight out of her hands. I ripped through the envelope. Unfolding my future, the letter read – Room 102. I nearly dropped the paper. Each year there was a familiar room number and teacher name. Each year I had the same one as my friends. Each year I got the one I wanted. This year was different. I had a different room than the rest, and a completely new teacher.

Photo from Plavan Elementary #roar#panther4ever

Siblings, Ice Cream, and Growing Apart

    I sat on the curb. I watched as the cars passed and counted their colors – 1 point for white, 2 points for blue, 3 points for red, and 10 points for pink or purple. My sister and I walked to the ice cream shop across the street. Every time she would choose her flavor and I would choose mine, never the same.
     Everyone thought we were twins, my mom used to dress us up in matching clothes. I hated it. Aubrey was only six, with short hair that hugged her neck.
She sat by me. She asked, What happens if the car hits that bird? I ignored her and scooted away. I didn’t understand what it meant to be an older sister yet. Not until she didn’t need me. Not anymore.

Photo from ROSEMARY MCCOY

A Journey Beyond Screens and Silence

I found my seat quickly. My face still sweating from going through security, even though I had nothing to hide. I glance around and see everyone looking at their screens, but my eyes couldn’t be drawn from the window. I sat next to my mom who starred like everyone else. I felt the floor beneath me begin to shake. My ears could not hear a thing when I tried to cover up the noise with music but I could feel the engines roar. I squeezed my mothers hand. I watched as the trees passed by faster and faster. And soon we were up in the sky. I saw the city get smaller behind us, wondering what this trip awaits.

A Symphony of Quite

I was never by myself. I’d like to say I am very social and always put myself around people. I have friends in every class and hangout with them during lunch or after school. I used to have my siblings fill each room in our house and I could hear their laughs while they were on calls, watching their lights turn off and on, listening to them yell goodnight through the doors. Hearing them coming out of their rooms and walking around meant that they were still here, until eventually it was just me. Being the youngest has its perks, but nothing can prepare you for the day that they all leave for college. The house is quiet. Rooms are dark and footsteps are only my own. Walking out to an empty living room and sitting alone at the dining table. Even though I am older now, I still felt like the little sister, needing my siblings’ company.