Fallen Memories
Ten years ago my life was great, amazing actually until my parents died. My life and my memories of them scattered everywhere like shattered glass from a broken window. And ten years ago, at age six it seemed like a good idea to lock everything that reminded me of them away, in a box. When my parents died, I moved in with my aunt and had her place that box in my closet, on the top shelf, where I would forget about it.
Ten years ago no one really knew what happened to my parents. Ten years ago they kinda just disappeared into the darkness and never returned. Their bodies were never found, so we just assumed that they were dead. Ten years ago we had a funeral for them, but I didn't truly understand the feeling of loss.
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I was with my parents once again, except I knew that I would never actually see them. My memories hit me all at once when it was opened, as it bonked me on the head while I was grabbing my perfect sweet sixteen dress. Old drawings and family photos fluttered in the air. Looking around, tears filled my eyes. Something about seeing my whole childhood floating next to me made me so emotional. Then it hit me, literally, as the key to my parents’ house landed in the palm of my hand. “It’s getting foreclosed tomorrow!” I screamed. For a moment, I completely forgot about my sweet sixteen party. I can't focus with so much boggling in my head. I want to go to my sweet sixteen party, but I know in my heart that I have to go home. To my real home, not some house I was forced to live in with no memories of my