New House, New Life

I live in a cul-de-sac at the end  of a road that no one goes down unless you live there or you’re the mailman.  Dad says we are the first people to live in this house.  It was built just for us.

As we turn into the neighborhood, we twist and turn with the road. When what seems like an eternity passes by, we're finally there.  We pull into the driveway of a large gray house with black shutters and a white balcony and porch.  There are trees out in front of the house but one stands alone.  It is quietly shedding its leaves and dropping gumballs.  We pass the silent trees and walk into the house.  Suddenly, I am hit with a mixture of fresh paint, wood and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.  The kitchen counters are smooth and white like they have never been used (well, because they hadn’t).  I walk up the stairs feeling the smoothness of the banister, smelling the crispness of new paint and seeing the long, never ending hallway. The two bedrooms are across from one another and just by looking at the first one, I know which room I want.

                My room faces the street. One window looks out onto the balcony and the other onto the street.  The afternoon sun warms up my room nicely because there are no blinds on the windows yet.  The room seems as large as a castle in one of those fairytales that the princesses and princes and magical creatures live happily ever after in.  How in the world will I ever be able to live in a castle-sized room? It’s awfully big for a five year old.  Well, maybe it’s so large because there isn’t any furniture in it yet.  Either way I think I’ll be able to manage.
               
               I make my way back downstairs and outside and I notice the outline of a new house being built at the end of the cul-de-sac.  It looks like a skeleton because it’s nothing but wood nailed together.  You can even smell the sawdust all the way down the street.  After looking at the skeleton house I notice a little girl walking down the street.  That reminds me, I saw her car pull into their house just after we arrived.  She’s walking towards me so I decide to meet her halfway.  When we meet, she introduces herself saying her name is Jenny.  So I told her mine is Lauryn and we went off to play.  At that moment I made my first friend in South Carolina.


-Lauryn McDonough