What Makes You Stronger | Teen Ink

What Makes You Stronger

September 25, 2013
By katattack21 SILVER, Wilmington, Delaware
katattack21 SILVER, Wilmington, Delaware
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

As I set my cumbersome suitcases down, I take a deep breath and look at the barren room; my room. I could feel the shakiness in my hands as I scan the empty purple and red walls. I can still smell the fresh paint of the walls and the fresh wood smell of my new furniture. I slide my hand from surface to surface, feeling the soft, inviting cloth of my bed to the warm and hard surface of my dresser. I sit down on my bed and put my head in my hands. I catch my breath and settle my heart as I realize what I’ve done. I thought to myself that I had left everyone. I left my brothers, my mom, my friends; everything that’d I had ever known.

I compose myself as I hear the soft creaks of my dad walking up the stairs. He knocks on the door gently and inquires how I’m feeling. Taking a minute to pause to answer his question, I think of all the emotions flooding over me. I’m excited, nervous, scared, and heartbroken all at the same time. My head is spinning rapidly and I answer my dad saying that I’m not sure, but it’s not a bad thing. I look down and twist the cuff of string bracelets around my wrist, feeling their familiarity and their comfort. Each bracelet holds a memory and a love; all twenty three of them.

My dad smiles warmly and I can see the joy dancing in his eyes when he realizes that the time had finally come when I decided to move in with him.

“We still have to register you for your upcoming sophomore year. Hopefully we can get you into A.I. or Cab,” he tells me gently. I panicked as a new set of thoughts and emotions flew around my head. A new school that would be filled with people that I didn’t know, flooding the hallways, blocking me in, trapping me, suffocating me. My stomach tightens along with my heart and lungs. Thoughts keep racing through my head as if they want to escape.

My phone buzzes and sings to tell me that my friends from California love me and miss me already.

“We miss you, girl! Come home soon, as in like now, okay? <3”

“Dela-WHERE? Does that even exist? Come back!” And on and on. They appeared on my screen for weeks.

Tears swell in my eyes, but I suppress them down as my dad shuts the door. I slowly get up off my bed and begin pacing around my new room. The cool hardwood floors give slightly under each step that I take. I love and miss my friends and family already and I’ve only been in Delaware for three hours. I groan and plop onto my bed. I sigh and push everything off of it with every last bit of energy that I have left. I crawled underneath the unfamiliar covers and forced myself to sleep.

I was able to form a normal routine as I adjusted to my new life, including the time zone difference. Little by little my room came together as I made it mine. I looked different than when I got there. I have three fresh piercings, beach blonde hair, and tan skin. I walked to the bathroom the day before I started my new school; my new life. I stared at the girl in the mirror looking back at me. I had no clue who she was. I mindlessly twist the bracelets but I stop myself and make the courageous decision that it was finally time. I grabbed the scissors and one by one, I cut the bracelets off. I can see the pale skin contrast with against the fresh tan. I exhale deeply as if it were a weight being lifted off my shoulders. The symbolic ties to my life in California had been cut. I smile and think to myself that now I can truly start over.

Whenever I doubt myself, I open a small drawer in my dresser and pull out the severed bracelets and lift them gently as if I pulled too hard, they would fall apart in my hands. I no longer remember what each one meant, but it doesn’t matter anymore. These now hold a new meaning for me. The day I arrived to my new home in Delaware permanently changed my life. The bracelets prove to me that I was brave and I was able to change my life on my own and that I had made my own choice and my own path.



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