Dust | Teen Ink

Dust

October 7, 2008
By Anonymous

Memories along with history drift through the musty air. Just sitting here living in the past has always suited me. Flashbacks are so common in this piece of history, that the people who have all lived in this house almost seem to be real. As I wander throughout the abandoned monument, I notice slight changes. Furniture moved around with fluorescent green and orange tags, sheets removed from intricate body mirrors. The people I see now are nothing like my memories. The long dresses have almost ceased to exist. What were once worker clothes are now worn as if it is acceptable in society.

The immense dining room is now strewn with color. The solemn colors of faded- away maroon and the wooden backed chairs are now replaced with a royal blue and a vast black screen with no absolute boundaries. Rows of chairs cover the once beautifully polished cherry wood floor, all in the direction of the blank screen.

I’m unable to see the once vivid memories of the past. Curiosity takes over as I start to wonder about the beloved music room. Unknowingly, I sneak in there and a wave of happiness seems to take over my being. It has been fully restored and improved dramatically. The marble floor gleams with joy as the midnight black piano rests in the middle of the sound tight room. The French doors are now open and the balcony is now a chalky white. A lone ray of window light shines on my being, enlightening me to the fact that I’m all that’s left.

It finally hits me - what is being done to my precious lifestyle. The old abandoned mansion is now coming back to life with color instead of memories.

I feel so overjoyed that I can not keep this to myself. The attic was next on my list of special rooms. When I drifted through the keyhole, all was polished. My friends, family had all been swiffered away. I was now a deprived dust speck floating in a renovated mansion- watching all my memories be replaced.



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