The Empty Room

I sat against the wall crying silently. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I feared they would freeze. The heater had just been turned on and my tiny room seemed as if it would never warm. Chicago weather was much too cold for my liking. I missed California already. I had just moved from sunny San Diego to this new, dreary house in the Chicago suburbs. This house could never be called a home, for my home and heart was left in California and awaits for my return.

Only two days had passed since arriving here, but I could already tell I did not belong. I kept telling myself that this whole experience was just a dream and I would wake up any minute to find my old life still intact. My mother and father would still be together and everything would be absolutely perfect. But alas, no matter how hard I wished, or how sincerely I prayed, I continued to wake up in this horrible nightmare.

Everyone was busy outside trying to get everything moved in before it snowed again. I was all alone in my own room. The feeling of betrayal was evident in my emotions. I asked myself over and over again why my family would do this to me. All of these feelings were too much for my six year old self to handle. Silent crying was my only way to escape my state of shock.

Looking around the room, I saw nothing. There was a small bed in the corner, but I didn’t count that as a possession of mine. The room felt like a stranger. I knew nothing of it. There was nothing there that even hinted that this room was to be mine. Empty and barren were the only adjectives I could think of to describe my new room.

I continued to cry until a bit later when I heard a soft knock on the door. I quickly started to rub my eyes to rid them of their tears and tried to put on the bravest face I could muster. My brave face did not last very long when I saw who it was that had entered. My cousin Sara who was older than me by two years had walked in. The tears promptly returned as I expressed my woes to Sara. She sat there just listening and I continued to ramble on. I kept on repeating how I hated to see my room so empty and how I wished that I had something to show that this designated space belonged to me.

Sara stood up as soon as I was done talking, and told me that she would be right back. She returned a few minutes later with something behind her back. She then walked over to the closet and placed whatever she held inside. I walked over to where she was standing and curiously looked to see what was inside. There, on one of the shelves occupying the closet was a pair of Princess Jasmine slippers. Sara embraced me in a tight hug before I could even comprehend the meaning of these shoes. Seeing my confused expression, she leaned her head next to mine and whispered into my ear, “The room is not empty anymore. It’s really yours now.” This small and simple action was enough to calm my tears. It made me realize that maybe this whole moving thing was not so bad after all. Just maybe.