Train Of Thought

Last night I had the most beautiful dream.

It was you and I.

We were being the reckless kids we are.

We were climbing on a rickety rope bridge.

The bridge went over a rocky body of water.

We were both climbing, more like scooting, across this bridge.

The height, the condition of the bridge, and the crashing water below us left us with an uneasy feeling in the pits of our stomachs.

We reached a point where we both agreed to stop.

You wrapped your arms around me, and all of my uneasy feelings disappeared,

It was as if a switch had been flipped.

I felt safe and warm in your arms.

We sat and watched the waves crash underneath us.

We had no fears, no cares, no worries.

It was just us, together, above the mayhem of the raging waters.

I’m telling you, It was the most beautiful dream.

Moving is never easy. There’s a whole lot of heavy lifting, packing and unpacking, and rearranging to be done. It’s a lot of work. Ponder this for me; If all of those things- the lifting, the packing, and the arranging- became unnecessary, would moving be considered easy? Maybe it would be if you got to stay in the same town, or the same school. If you got to keep all of your friends, and see all of your family, then moving should be considerably easy. For me and my family, moving was very easy in a physical aspect. However, emotionally, leaving the little town I called home was the most difficult thing I’d ever done.

My name is Edith J. Tyler. I was born in Chandler, Texas on January 14th, 1998. In 2004 my small family moved to Golden, Illinois. The tiny town was trashy, addict infested, and full of the type of people you lock in a padded cell. Regardless of its faults, Golden was beautiful. The heart of the German Heritage District, the sight of the infamous Lincoln-Douglas debate, and a popular hub among the Mississippi river, Golden was my home. I had made friends there, I had a huge family there, and I had made countless memories.

My home, no matter how much I loved it, was sucking the life out of me and my family. Mom had switched jobs three times in the ten years that we had lived there. Each time she switched she made more money than the last. But it was never enough. We were always struggling. You see, town’s like Golden have the tendency to do that to you. They’re the succubus’ of all living places. They lure you in with their beauty and promise of kinship and happiness. Then, without warning, they drag you down; draining your morale until you feel so low that you’ve lost all hope. You feel as if that’s the life you deserve.

We fought hard to keep our life in Golden. I got a job in order to help out my mom. We rented out space in our home to friends and family; hoping that the extra income would help with bills. Despite our efforts, things continued to get worse. We continued to spiral down, continued to sink.

In early august of 2014, my mom had reached her breaking point. We had just moved for the seventeenth time since arriving in Golden. Our new home very small and my mom could barely afford it. A week or so later, they docked her hours at work. Making any chance of us moving up in the world disappear. On August 17th, my mom broke the news to my sister and me;

“I’ve got something to tell you when we get home,” she stated.

I argued, “why can’t you just tell me now?”. She didn’t respond. She just sighed. This scared me. “Mom? Is something wrong?” I was confused. Again, she didn’t respond. Tears began to roll down her cheeks and onto her chin. I hate it when my mother cries. It’s how I know when things get bad. She’s always been so strong. She always finds a reason to be happy. “Mom!” I was frustrated at this point. I hate not knowing.

She finally spoke, “We’re moving to Texas,” she was sobbing. Her words coming out as barely more than a babble, making what she had to say even more difficult to take in. “I just can’t do it anymore! I’ve had all the help I can get, and we’re still fighting to survive!”

I burst into tears. I knew what she meant, and I knew she was right. That didn’t make it easier to accept. We were leaving home for a place that was a foreign to me as any other country would be, back to my birthplace of Tyler, Texas. We were going to be staying with my mom’s best friend, my godmother, and her three kids. We were leaving in a week. I was leaving behind my friends, my school,my boyfriend, all of my family, and everything else that meant something to me. I was crushed. I knew it was for the best, which made it hurt even more.

The following week consisted of one goodbye after the next. With each passing day, the tightness in my chest grew worse; but, at the same time I felt freer than I ever had. I cried more that every day that week than I had at any other point in my life.

My last week in Golden passed a lot faster than I would have liked. I tried to enjoy the time I spent with friends and family. All I could think about was how much I was going to miss them after I was gone. It felt as if I was waiting for my own personal doomsday. Despite my efforts I couldn’t escape my own pessimism. Aside from my negative attitude; I was in denial. I woke up every morning that week thinking that my mom was going to tell me “Never mind, we can handle this,” but it never happened. I kept wishing- praying- that something would happen; a miracle, maybe. But, miracles are for movies and happy ending are rare in the real world.

Our last day in Golden was August 24th. It arrived so fast it felt like I should have whip-lash. We shoved everything we could into our tiny Chevy Malibu. She had our clothes and a few sentimental items. We said our final goodbyes, and we were off.

At this point I was still in denial. We weren’t really leaving. We couldn’t be this is home. But my denial didn’t last long. As we crossed the Bayview Bridge from Illinois to Missouri- reality began to set in. we were really leaving. This was happening. My home wasn’t home anymore. My home was over eight hundred miles away. I felt lost. I felt hopeless.

I broke down. This chapter of my life was over. And I didn’t know where I was going from there. Everything has to change. I’ve got a lot of figuring out to do.

The sun is high in the sky, its bright rays baking the red clay dirt into a solid brick. The air is suffocatingly still. Puffs of dust explode from the ground with even the slightest movement. A dark wall of rain clouds can be seen in the distance, slowly moving in. Civilians peer sanguinely at the huge gray mass. Their yearning stares bringing the tension in the town to a tangible level. Children play in the dirt while their parents and grandparents watch, discussing the severity of the situation.

“Think it’s gon’ rain?” questions the old man.

“God, I sure hope so,” replies his wife.

A cool breeze blows softly as if Mother Earth was gently sighing. The clouds move in more quickly now. They’re no longer just a wall of gray, but a huge green blanket covering the land. It grows darker and darker until the sun is gone, completely shrouded in the green blanket. Small water droplets start to fall from the sky cooling the air. The perfume of the damp soil permeates the air, answering the prayers of the people. The rain has come.

The cool breeze becomes a howling wind. The velocity of the gusts increasing exponentially by the second. The trees begin to sway with ferocity. The people make their way indoors, scurrying to shelter like small rodents. Children are shooed from the window sills. Shutter and storm windows are fastened with haste. No longer a chilly sprinkle, the rain comes down in ice cold sheets. Water pools on the rock hard dirt forming knee-deep puddles. Blinding flashes of lightning brighten the sky while rolling thunder quakes the earth. With a deafening “CRACK!” lightning strikes a tree sending up a shower of sparks. The tree crashes to the ground with a thud. Wind speeds continue to increase while limbs and leaves are ripped from the trees. The clouds are churning above, creating a massive swirl of green and gray. The rain still falls in sheets, pounding against the ground.

Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, everything stops. The sheets of rain are reduced to the pitter-patter of a sprinkle. Harsh, howling gales dwindle to a mere, crisp breeze. The world is abruptly calm. An eerie silence creeps across the land as its inhabitants survey the damage. uprooted trees and broken branches pepper the lawns of friends and family. The earth that was once brick hard is now a gooey mud mash. The breeze blows again, parting the clouds. Rays of luminous sunshine peek through. They dance around like lasers at a light show. the raindrops reflect the light like little diamonds. For a moment the whole world in ablaze. Between the rays of sunlight, a splash of color can be seen. The perfect end to a perfect storm.