When I was 14, my mom sat me down and told me that we would possibly have to move. At first I was really upset, I screamed, I cried, and got mad. It wasn't fair, I was leaving my childhood home and I was never gonna see it again. Then there was the thought that I would have to go to another school, that made me even more mad. My brother and I have never moved we have lived in the house since we were itty bitty babies. We loved this house, we grew up here, he have broken bones here, I have laughed about it here. To imagine someone else living here was really hard for me. Since I am so stubborn, I told her I wasn't gonna move, she told me I was just being a stubborn bull. For weeks I was bitter about it, but my mom would pick me up from school to go look at houses anyway. We started looking at apartments in St.Peters and it started to get really real that I might have to move schools. After about 3 months of looking at houses all around the state, I realized that this was the best thing for me and my family. We were living in a giant 4 bedroom, 4 bathroom house with 3000 square feet and a pool. It was hard for my mom to keep paying for it. To help my brother and I out she found a townhouse in Wentzville, so we wouldn't have to leave schools or all of our friends. We found the townhouse like 2 weeks before needing to move in, it put everything into overdrive. It was very stressful and felt very real, like it was actually gonna happen now.  We started packing like maniacs, the new house was a lot smaller than the one we were living in so most of my stuff just got sold in the estate sale that we did. The day we were actually moving was one of the most emotional days of my life. I walked downstairs that morning and my mom had already started packing the boxes for the kitchen. I was starving,

“Mom dont pack all it away, I'm hungry”
“Sam if I don't pack it now, it will never get packed.”
“But what am I gonna use to heat my food up”

She then pointed to the box of donuts on the counter, I grabbed one and headed upstairs to pack my room. It was sad to think that I was never gonna smell bacon cooking in our house again, it was gonna be somewhere else. My room was mainly packed, most of my furniture was getting sold in the estate sale. So I really only have to pack up my little stuff and clothes. It was still so hard for me. To think about me never sleeping in that room again just made me want to cry. My bed was always the softest place to land after a long day of softball and school, or just cleaning or running around playing. My mom came upstairs and saw me upset and told me that everything was gonna be okay. We sat there and reminced for awhile about my old swim trophies and the clothes I wore when I did certain things. Like the outrageously bright pink shirt and puffy white tutu skirt I wore on my 7th birthday when we went to the science museum. It was such a bad idea because it was also really windy outside so it kept flying up and it kept getting stuck on things. We laughed about it for a good 5 minutes, we both kept picturing me running around trying to hold my skirt down and getting stuck and having to call for help. It's not like the clothes fit anymore but they still meant things to me, so it was so hard to throw them out or put them up for sale.

Me and my mom finished packing my things and went to check on my brother, who was hard at work taking all of this lego sets apart. He is 17 if i forgot to mention it, so me and my mom were surprised he still even had them. He was like a kid in a candy store when he saw those stupid legos. All of his furniture was coming with us in the move so he had to pack everything up. I on the other hand only had to leave what was going up for sale in my room and the sellers would handle it.  He didn't struggle as much with the sentimental things as I did, because like all serotypes he is a boy and just pushes the feelings away. He was getting pretty much everything he wanted, he got the whole basement in the new house, he got to get a ton of new things, he didn't have to sell as much. It felt very unfair at the time. We ended up both getting new stuff and starting fresh, he is just older and got different things, I was just being a bitter teenager.

Toward the end of the day we were almost done, we were just sorting out the things we wanted to sell and what we did not want to sell went into a box. I started to realize that a lot of things that we were deciding to sell had a lot of bad memories attached to them, like the scooter that my brother broke his arm riding on. Even things that we weren't gonna sell brought up bad memories, like our old family albums. It reminded me of happy times when we were all of a family but also of the fact that my parents were divorced and we were never gonna be like that anymore. Or how my father had left without saying anything and was just gone. My mom had found the old sprinkler that we used to water grass on the side of the house, I could just hear us screaming in the front yard running through it on one of the hottest days of the year. My dad got so mad, he hated ruining the grass. But we didn't care, it was so much fun. I started to believe that my mom was right, this move was going to let us leave our bad memories behind and make new ones together. It sucked to leave the house I grew up in, learned how to walk and talk in, cried and laughed in but it didn't turn out to be as bad as I thought it would be.