I woke up on what I thought was going to be a normal Thursday. I uneasily stumbled around my purple room, looking for my baby-blue shirt and plaid skirt that all girls attending St. Charles Borromeo were forced to wear. Routinely, I got dressed and then was on my way downstairs for breakfast. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; Little did I know I was about to receive news that would hit me like a freight train plowing down the tracks at top speed. My mom and dad were standing around our granite countertop, giving my two brothers and my sister something to eat. No sooner had I picked up a fluffy, buttered waffle was my dad was clearing his throat to get our attention. He glared at us and said with a suspenseful tone, “At the end of this school year, we are moving to Texas.”

I was completely speechless. This was the very first moment in my life that I had experienced the feeling of being wordless. My first reaction was to cry. I loved my life, and I enjoyed my life. I had five best friends and three times as many friends. Spending the next four years at Destrehan High School was what I was looking forward to the most, and my dream was being taken from me. My tears formed a blurred wall between my eyes and the world. As the day continued, my sadness stayed with me. It followed me everywhere like a lost dog, searching for its owner. This puppy of sadness tagged along with me all day. Nothing could comfort me. Everything that I knew had been stolen from me in the blink of an eye. This day in which I thought would be an average day, a day that would be filled with laughter, had turned into one of the worst days of my life.

When I think back to this day I specifically remember the smell of waffles and my mom’s perfume. Looking back I still feel the exact same emotions as I had on that day. It still makes me want to cry, and run to my friends to tell them the horrible news. Of course I did not move. For the entire school year, nothing had changed. Texas was still in my future, and I was not happy about it. There were times in which I could not even bare the thought of leaving my home and going to a foreign place. I hated every aspect of the idea. I could never forget about the devastating news. It haunted me in everything that I did.

At my graduation party in May of 2007, my mom approached me, noticing I wasn’t having a good time. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her that everyone was going to get to see each other again and I was going to be isolated and left to make new friends in an unfamiliar environment. She looked at me smiling, and said. “Want to hear some new that will make your day better?” Immediately, I said “YES!” She proceeded to tell me that we weren’t moving. She has told my dad that the family wasn’t ready for the move and she would not allow is to go through with it. My day was in fact made, and I ran to tell my friends. I enjoyed my party after all.