The Return | Teen Ink

The Return

January 19, 2017
By Anonymous

I remember how it felt, watching the trees zoom past as the car drove down the highway. That pit in my chest was building and I knew it would not stop. I clutched the armrest on my seat as I watched the road signs. I was going somewhere I once knew, but as I approached it, I felt as if I were a complete stranger. I knew I should have felt excited, yet all I could feel in my heart was fear.


I watched the cars get off nearby exits as I tried to remember. I clutched the necklace that was wrapped around my neck. I always did that when I was nervous. I wanted to remember what it looked like, how it felt, what I did there, and the people who lived there. The very people who were once my entire world, before it all got complicated and before I never came back. I always wanted to go back, but I never did and I hated myself for it. Would they recognize me? I brushed my hand across my face. How much had I changed? I was no longer the little girl who ran through those doors. I gazed at my father in the driver’s seat and wondered how he felt. He knew this place like the back of his hand. How did it feel returning to the place he once called home? I continued to clutch my necklace. My mind was blank. I wanted to remember, more than anything. I closed my eyes and tried to picture it. All I saw was absolute darkness. I breathed in and opened my eyes. The exit for Ebensburg, Pennsylvania was in one mile.


As we turned down countless streets, I tried to imagine how it used to be, when my dad was my age. I wish I could see him back then, walking down these streets like he was on top of the world.  However, I could not see him and this was not the top of the world. For the last few years of my life, this place had fallen to the bottom of my world and as we drove I could feel it trying to hike its way up. I braced myself for the memories, for everything to come flooding back. Nothing came. Nothing seemed familiar. I could feel my hand inching towards my chest and reaching for my necklace. I wanted to know this place. I once knew this place. When I felt the car wheels begin to turn, my stomach dropped. I gazed out the window and saw a house that I could not recall.
How could this place seem so unfamiliar? I scanned my surroundings for just a slight glimpse of the past.

 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I inched towards the door. I took a deep breath as I slowly turned the doorknob. I put one foot out and closed my eyes. I took off my shoes and let my feet touch the floor. The second I felt that soft carpet between my toes, I opened my eyes. I felt my heart relax as I turned around to look at the door. Suddenly, there I was. I was 5 years old and carefully taking off my flower strap sandals, making sure I got absolutely no dirt on the perfectly white carpet. As I took in that first moment of my past, I could not help but hear something. I flashed back to the reality to hear a sound of distress. It sounded as if someone was having a mental breakdown. I closed my eyes and clenched my necklace. The cries were getting louder. I opened my eyes to the sight of my grandmother being wheeled away. My heart stopped. There she was, so motionless, yet you could see every feeling that filled her body. Her head rested on her shoulder and her hands laid at her sides. When she caught my glance, I forced a smile. I was finally back, but she was being taken into her bedroom.
When the door shut, I felt a tender hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see the face of my grandfather. His glasses rested on his nose and his lips curled into a warm smile. I wrapped my arms around him and felt my body relax. This was familiar.


“She’s okay. She was caught off guard. We weren’t expecting you this early. She will be out soon,” he said.
The weight lifted off my shoulders as I backed out from my grandfather’s embrace. As my father unpacked the car, I went outside. I walked out the front to see snow falling. The snow gave me comfort. It was so peaceful. As I began to make my way to the side of the house, I noticed something. It had changed, but I recognized it. The fair grounds behind the house were run down, yet  still standing. Once again, I saw myself. There I was, sitting on the porch, watching the horses. My mom begged me to go back inside, but I insisted on staying there. I so desperately wanted to stay on the porch and watch them until the sun came up. I flashed back to reality and the horses were gone. As much as I wished the horses would never leave, I grew older and everything changed. I took my last glance at the snowfall before going back inside. I met my father on his way out the door. He told me that he was going out with my grandfather and I had to stay with my grandmother.


I began to walk towards the kitchen where my grandmother was waiting for me, holding my necklace harder than ever. On my way, I passed a familiar door. As I opened it, I saw the wallpaper I once admired. Along the staircase wall laid faces of legacies such as Shirley Temple and Elvis Presley. At the bottom, I saw myself on the couch. There I was, sitting in my favorite room of the house. I would have stayed down there forever if I had the chance. When I finally made it to the kitchen, I saw the back of my grandmother’s wheelchair.


“The last time I saw you, you were only the height of this table,” she exclaimed. “Now look how much you’ve grown.”


I smiled as I sat down across from her. I looked into her gentle eyes and told her how much I had missed her. We talked as if nothing has changed. It was like I was the same girl I was over 5 years ago. As we talked, I felt my anxiety fade. Suddenly, she took note of my necklace.


“Do you know where you got that?” she asked me.


“No. I’ve worn it for as long as I could remember,” I replied.


“That was mine, when I was just about your age.”


I placed my hand on my chest and closed my eyes. Every time I was nervous and every time I ever doubted myself, she was there. I may have been distant, but she was always with me. I never knew the impact of reconnecting with my past would have. Feeling as if I were a stranger is something I never wanted to experience again. Knowing where I came from is something I would never let go.



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