As I woke up this morning, the pale and shy autumn sun rose throughout all of Rome, its rays filtered into my room, giving the cold and dull flooring an unusual gossamery look. One that was seldom achievable due to the more fiery and striking colors that would overtake it.
I stretch my legs, and groggily yawn, my tear ducts filling subtly as I rub my sleep-filled eyes. I wince slightly in discomfort as my feet, warm from being kept under the blankets in the night, hit the cold tiles of my room, completely missing the carpet. I shiver, but nonetheless, the single thought of the air in my room not being fresh is aggravating enough to motivate me to open my window, taking in a lungful of crisp morning air. I fully get up, peeling my white blanket off of my shoulder, though, as I try to pull it off in an agile movement to make the mental pain of taking it off more bearable, I lift my arms too high and lose my already poor balance. A soft thud is heard as my elbow hits the floor, an electric jolt striking the entirety of my arm, and consequently, my body, roughly dragging my sleep-filled limbs to a painful halt. The shock aids me to quickly get up and recompose myself, the thought of my parents hearing me, sprinting through my head like a runner in an Olympic race. I cradle my elbow in my left hand gently, as I mutter to myself about unpleasant mornings. While doing so, I turn around and gape at my blanket, angrily. I imagine that if it were a person, it would snicker at me with a smug look on its horizontal and puffy face; proud to have made me fall so easily and humiliatingly, having managed to ruin my day without even giving it the chance to begin.
I shake my head, trying to shoo such negative thoughts away, and proceed to tiptoe through my room, grateful that years of ballet have made me so nimble. In doing so, I feel like a petal waltzing through the air as I finally make it to my door. As I open it, I feel my face contort into a terrified expression when I hear it emit a small creak from the handle, yet, I endure, and step outside in the corridor of the house. I giggle to myself as I close the door, proud beyond words at the way I managed to sneak out of my room in such a deceptive way. But my alert ears pick up on the faint noise of feet and I sprint to the bathroom, all my former grace and attention discarded as I take heavy stomps. Once I hear the door click shut, I swiftly grasp the key placed inside the nook, and twist it roughly to the right, closing it.
I shudder slightly as I gather my school’s uniform from the bathroom’s radiator in my grubby hands. In my mind, I had created a small game for myself: every morning, I would try to not get caught by my parents as I woke up. If I managed to escape them and their unaware gazes, I knew it was going to be a fruitful day, but if I got caught by them or seen, the hours ahead would be dreadful. Soon after, my mind wanders off topic, spacing out and fantasising about the book we were reading at school: Peter Pan. What a wonderful book, I think to myself; the mesmerising details and its supernatural aura around it captured my attention from its very first page. Out of pure muscle memory, I finish tying the short and knotty braid in my hair, as I attempt miniscule jumps to look at myself better in the bathroom mirror. When I’m finally able to catch a glimpse of myself, a soft smile adorns my face, and I let out a content sigh, when suddenly, my peace is interrupted. A shiver of fear runs through me, as the realisation that my little game is over settles in. I feel a tinge of disappointment settle in the pit of my stomach, but it fades as soon as my mom grabs my arm, making me look into her eyes.
My brown eyes meet her own, and a connection is shared, the main emotion flowing through the invisible string bringing our brains is pure panic, but a little excitement shines through. Finally, she lets out a sigh, as the news breaks through. We’re moving, she announces. All I can manage to do is stare at her, like a deer in headlights, as my brain is processing this information. My memory goes foggy, as my thoughts increase and race each other, overflowing and overlapping. The next hours are a blur, until I find myself in my car, my mom sitting next to me in the back. I’m still wearing my uniform, my woolen dark green skirt falling on my ankles. My mom had bought it a size too big, and when I received it, I had whined about it, but now, I find myself gripping the sides tightly to ground myself, as my eyes brim with unshed tears. My other hand rests in my mom’s bigger one, as she lightly taps the back of it, a futile attempt to calm me down, and reassure me that everything’s alright. I had just received the news that I’d be moving away from my house and city, leaving behind all my friends, to go live in a desolate farm with my grandparents, and she was expecting me to feel calm and jolly? The mere thought of happiness scorns me at this moment, and feelings of child-like mischief and joy have left my body, having been drained away. I sit in the back of the moving car, speeding to our family farm, my face as pale as the moon, as the bumpy road makes me jolt slightly, forcefully pushing my thoughts out of my head, as the car comes to an abrupt stop, my eyes finally looking up. The imponent building in front of me shocks me, as the race of my thoughts slowly fades, shifting to the background of my brain, as I let my red and puffy eyes rest on the mansion ahead of me. A single thought is now filling my head, echoing in the depths of my brain. This place looks ethereal. The now confident and potent sun let its rays crash against the front of the house, giving it a pale white tint that seems to surround the building, making it seem afloat. Without realizing, I had removed my hands from my mom’s, letting my suitcase hit the grassy ground, emitting a muffled thud.
My habitually common brown eyes suddenly fill with a new sparkle as my body moves without consulting my mind; my legs pick up a fast pace, as I launch my body forward into a sprint, my arm outstretched towards my grandma. She looked other-wordly too, I think to myself, her reddish short hair illuminated by the sun and its kaleidoscope of underlying shades, and any person could have seen how she belonged here, in a mansion next to her farm, where the sky is pure, and animals are free to roam the place without fear of being prosecuted.
Away from all the rumbling of car motors in the city, away from the dense and blinding smoke and fumes of illegal factories, and into a world of hypnotic and irresistible fascination that was able to make even the toughest hearts a touch sweeter.
I feel my body be enveloped by her sweet and gentle arms, and her warm scent of freshly baked wine cookies and vanilla is enough to strip all my reminiscing worries away, as if a protective bubble around her was able to take away anybody’s worries, even for just a second, and I had just stepped in it.
She leads me inside of the house, or tries to, fruitlessly; as I rebel against her arms, and squirm away from her, my eyes land on the animals and nature around us. I spin slightly, wanting to take every detail of my new home in, and my childish brain forms a small but beyond exciting connection: I felt like I was one of the kids in the book Peter Pan! Rescued away from a crude and impure version of what life was truly meant to be. This single thought sends my mind in a frenzy of joy, as I start spinning faster, letting my arms flail by my side, as the whooshing wind urges them closer to my body.
A small giggle escapes my strawberry colored lips, my laugh resonating inside my head, amplifying my contentment. Nobody would have been able to tell that just a few minutes before, I had been crying in fear, my heart feeling restricted and breaths being brutally pushed out of my lungs. I clumsily spin too fast, and my body leans to the left a bit, causing my balance to bail me as I feel my back hit the dewy grass. But this time, I don’t glare at the object that caused the fall, this time I accept the grass around me and rest my head on it, my heart feeling full. My eyes meet the rays of the sun, as my body tingles from the cold dew of the ground around me, but all my care is thrown away right now; all I can think of how undisturbed my heart and mind finally feel, not plagued by the noises and smells of the city, as I slowly get up and finally take a shaky step inside the wooden floors of my new home.