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“Do you even have anything to move in?” Because I didn’t. All I had was a backpack with a few change of clothes and a toothbrush I bummed off a church in Colorado.
“You know what I mean. I’m checking out my room!” Vera disappeared in to her bedroom, leaving me in the living room. I stared at the open door that led in to what was now my room. From my vantage point in the living room I could discern the outlines of a few objects, but not much. I should get it over with and just walk in, but it’s the oddest thing, my feet are somehow stuck to the floor.
Like I’ve stepped in taffy.
I’ve never had a room. I mean, I’ve had a room that I’ve slept in before, but never my own room. Daddy was very clear on that. It wasn’t my room, it was his room. Everything belonged to him. Even I belonged to him. Eli was the only one who ever made me question that… He was the only person who ever made me think that I could belong to myself.
Vera squealed, startling me from my thoughts and memories.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled, still not moving from my spot.
“I have a closet and a dresser. Do you?” I couldn’t answer her, as I still hadn’t gone in to my room. Twisting my mouth in to a determined frown, I stepped from the spot and in to the room.
My room.
The walls were blank, no pictures or anything to speak of. Three were painted bone white while one was a stark contrast in aqua. The room had only one window and it overlooked the street. If I craned my head hard enough I could faintly make out the blue of the ocean. The ocean. The actual blue, vast, and apparently never-ending ocean.
Mostly I just saw the deep black tar of the street, dotted with cars of all colors. People walked along the pavement, some dressed in only swimsuits, as they made their way to the beach. They were smiling, pushing their friends, and laughing. I turned from the window and back to my room.
I still couldn’t believe it.
My room. To do anything I wanted with. The bed was already done-up in white sheets, with a faded-blue quilt on top. A light wood dresser, like the color of wheat grass in the noon-day sun, was pushed up against the wall. A long mirror hung over the back of a door. I went to that door and opened it.
“I have a closet!” I called back to Vera.
“And a dresser?” She questioned.
“And a dresser!” I replied. Seemingly content, Vera didn’t reply and silence hung in the air. Faint sounds from the street outside drifted in. Like whispers of happiness, I could hear people’s laughter and joy.
As I sat down on the faded-blue quilt of the bed, messing up the neatly folded corners, I couldn’t help but think this was too good to be true.
