There was no one around but myself; I heard my thoughts as if it was telling me a story…that’s when I knew I was alone. It was an odd day; there was hardly any sound but occasional chirps of birds and an occasional giggle from a neighborhood kid, but other then that for the first time there was silence. I felt the warm sun against my skin, the prickly grass between my toes and the shy breeze that lightly blew through my hair. This was the last time I’d be here, I thought to myself. The last time I’d stand in this grass and look out into this street, this house was no longer ours. My thoughts rapidly raced through my mind as if I was watching a movie in fast-forward, it’s been three months since I’ve seen my Oma, three whole months since she’s been gone.
What was I to do? What was I to say? As I stood there lost in my thoughts without words. I felt like a blank canvas, so many thoughts but no progress whatsoever. What was going to become of my family, my life and me? It felt as if everything was falling apart one by one with no sign of anything getting better. There was no happiness, little to no smiles but when it came to my family, they seemed to carry on easily, as I stood there in the prickly grass lost with no motivation or joy in my eyes. I thought to myself why was it so easy for them to move on when I was stuck in an unforgiving rut? They carried on with their daily routines, work, school and such things of that manner, but for me it wasn’t that easy, I was stuck in this state of oblivion and I couldn’t understand why. I sighed and stared at the overcastted sky and for the first time I was alone with a bunch of un-answered questions seeking answers I felt I would never get.