Home This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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I hate it here. I’m exhausted from marching in a parade and from dancing in front of an audience. I cried all afternoon because my evening plans were ruined. My eyes hurt, and I’m not in the mood to humor anyone. I hate it here.

It smells funny. I don’t care how many candles he lights, the whole place smells like old fruit and old people. The carpet is crunchy and uncomfortable. The lighting is poor, and I can’t connect to the Internet.

It isn’t home. Home was the house, with hardwood floors, thick area rugs, and the familiar no-scent smell of myself. Home was warm spring nights, barbecuing, green grass beneath my toes, and a swing set happily assembled by my ­father on many long, hot days.

Home was snowy Sundays sledding in the park. Home was hot chocolate in a thermos for me and coffee for him. Home was wet pants and a warm heater; home was steak for dinner after an exhausting day of snow fun.

Home was holidays – caking on white face paint for Halloween and painting faux-Easter eggs. Home was lighting a menorah and reciting prayers. Home was Valentine’s Day – waking up early to open red boxes and pink bags.

Home was nine months waiting for my sister. Home was two smiling girls, holding our father’s hand. Home was jumping up and down, begging to hold her. Home was tickles and TV, late at night or 8 p.m.

Home isn’t supposed to be torn apart. Home isn’t the surprise over dinner, tears in my rice. Home isn’t running from the table, screaming at my mother. Home isn’t my father packing his bags and leaving. Home isn’t my sister confused, scared because I am crying.

Home isn’t carefully walking up a funny-smelling staircase. Home isn’t seeing the ugly kitchenette and wishing for last year. Home isn’t a father aging ten years in three months.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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This article has 8 comments. Post your own now!

rainbow1234 said...
Apr. 9, 2010 at 5:18 pm
WOW!! This is an AMAZING article. The frequent use of parallel structure is fascinating. i am impressed.
 
chilliechillin' said...
Nov. 6, 2009 at 8:45 pm
You're not alone, I know the feeling... and I know how hard it is. This really was great writing
 
practicerandomkindness said...
Jul. 16, 2009 at 2:03 pm
very well-written. sorry this had to happen to you; just look for the silver linings on the gray cloud.
 
CHARMS said...
Feb. 21, 2009 at 8:14 am
Amazing job, it touched my heart. I almost cried.
 
agp1995 said...
Jan. 26, 2009 at 12:05 am
im so sorry for you and your family ive thought about this happening cause its happend to a friend to me before and it was just terrible im so so so sorry for you i hope you can make it through this.
 
LoveHisGoldEyes2010 said...
Jan. 20, 2009 at 4:17 pm
OMG I LOVE THIS!! it reminds me of what happened to my family except I didnt have a sister or brother till my dad met his new wife.
 
it'salwaysraininginohio said...
Jan. 20, 2009 at 3:32 pm
i'm surprised that there's only one comment on this.
i'm currently in the middle of writing a piece about a girl who's mother leaves her father and takes her to a new home, in a new town, with a new stepfather, etc.
this really gave me a lot of insight to how that feels, and it's beautifully written. the last line is my favorite.
thank you.
 
blinkingandbreathing said...
Dec. 5, 2008 at 4:29 am
this is a really pretty piece of writing you have here. your feelings about the defintion of home really connect. thanks for sharing the details and sad but beautiful side of your life.
 
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