Our “new” house is nice my mom says. She likes the view in the back, so you can see all the fields and glistening water. I have a room again, there’s four corner with a roof, and big window so, you can see the view. But I don’t like it. The water’s a facade, It’s dirtier than my hands. I miss tangling someone's hand into mine, like a puzzle piece. I used to be able to go anywhere my little legs could carry me. Over here It’s cold, and I feel alone like the frozen river in my backyard. My mom say’s I’ll get over it, boy am I trying. I’ve memorized the four corners of my room, I gave them my old friends names. Now when my mom asks if I’ve made friends I’ll give her the corners names. She can see them every time she walks into my room, I wonder why she still asks to meet them. I feel warm and safe whenever I talk to them. My mom always thinks I’m on the phone with new friends, but she doesn’t know we’re all in my room playing hide and seek. The corners say they have more friends for me. I go into my closet and talk all night to the new walls and corners. I finally made new friends mom. I finally did.