The Idea of an Essay, Volume 4

18 The Idea of an Essay: Volume 4 I turned slowly back toward the half opened window. The sun was shining down on my pale skin, but I shivered inside. I looked up at it wondering how I could feel so cold inside despite the beautiful California day. Everything looked so different. I longed for the damp chill of the Washington rain. Everything seemed constant there, familiar and comfortable. I missed the beautiful snowcapped mountain, towering behind the refreshing evergreen trees, and the dull, gray sky that seemed depressing yet somehow comforting. I took a deep breath and immediately wrinkled my nose. How different the smell of salt and sunshine was to my spinning mind. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different. I closed my eyes, imagining the crisp, misty air of the mountains, now so far away from me. The giggling from the girls sent my thoughts into the past. The face of my best friend Hannah appeared in my already jumbled up mind. The thought of her crooked, goofy smile, brought a meager smile to my face. I was grasping at straws, I pleaded with my brain, Please, Please, send me anything to make me happy. Instead I was launched back into a bittersweet moment. The last day of 6th grade was my final day in Washington before the big move to California. I wanted to savor this last day with my chummy classmates; we had all become close throughout the year. “School’s out!” one of the boys yelled and the room erupted with excited shouts. In no time, every seat was empty, every seat but mine. I looked around the sage green room. My classmates’ artwork hung on the walls: every picture showed an individual personality. I admired them, even the unappealing, unimaginative pieces that were just created to receive a decent grade. My heart sank. Leaving this room meant that my life was changing, things would never be the same. I heard rushed footsteps. Suddenly Hannah burst through the door and tried desperately to catch her breath. Between gasps of air she sputtered, “I was afraid you were already gone!” She reached into the pocket of her torn navy hoodie she always wore and pulled out a note with the name “Allie-sun” scrawled on it in sloppy handwriting. “Don’t open it until you are at your new house in Cali,” she blurted out. “I’m gonna miss you more than I would miss air, or something.” I smiled and threwmy arms around her. “I have something for you too,” I said as I pulled a plastic bag out of my backpack. The bag crinkled as I stuck my hand in and pulled out a bracelet made out of red, orange, and green embroidery floss.