Once again, a purely fictional short story of mine. I haven't written a short story in a while and some things my dad once said got in my head and inspired this one. Hope it reads well. See you guys tomorrow!
Changes with Choices
He looked up to the sky's star filled belly in ironic amusement, surely he shouldn't have been surprised at the changes. He'd had to pack all his things in less time than it took to say a prayer. As he walked, he recalled his earlier motions as he had hurriedly pack his room for the move.
He had no more calculated the things to take than he started to feel the well in his chest rise. There were some things you couldn't take. Some things you couldn't grasp, much like the wind, but you felt them- knew them as surely as you knew the air you breathed.
((((((thump)))))) (((thump thump))) ((((((thump)))))))
His heart echoed in his chest, thumping heavily in his head- a sound amplified only to his ears. He let his hands trace the walls of his room, recalling every memory associated with it. This was his home, this was where he had become a man, this was where he became the very person he is or was. And he had to leave it?? Now??
Why now, why not years from now, when he was steady on his feet? Damn! This was not the way things happened, was it? Does change come so easily that one must pick and choose where and what and who in the blink of an eye?
He did not know. but he knew his heart ached with grief, for surely he must move his feet through the door and say goodbye to the room that held his life's memories in its hands. His sister barging in unwanted, looking up at him with such adoration (and him secretly wishing she'd just go away and stop being such a nusiance). His mother calling to get his sleepy head outta bed and mind that you don't forget to be brushin' them teeth ya hear! His Pop sittin him down after a fall out with the girl down the road and explaining about a man having respect for a woman and how he shoulda never said or done some of those things. His grandpa trying his best to make each step up the stairs just to tell him how proud he was of 'em. Sneaking out, sneaking in, hearing momma cry a wail so loud he thought his heart would burst with the fear it tinged his soul with. That was when she got the call.
He'd made some friends, well so called anyway. That was real shit they got into, that was stains you couldn't wash off. People make that kind of mark on you. Leave impressions you couldn't get rid of if you wanted too. That was just the way it was.
But his family, that was pure. That was love he'd never cared to notice...until now. And the love they each gave him, even through the angry fits they loved him. Shame washed over him, he'd set things straight. He'd make it right again. But now, now it was time to go. And he walked out of the room with all the belongings he could manage on his shoulders. It was just time to go.
He returned his thoughts to the streets ahead of him, focusing his gaze on some unseen thing. He refused to let the night world see his tears that threatened to spill on his cheeks. He had to move forward, there was so much weight he had to carry. So much responsibility that he wasn't altogether sure that his broad shoulders could carry. But carry the load he must, for there was no going back. He clung to the hope that one day, one day he would not feel so alone.