She knew her small corner of this big town like the back of her hand. Eighteen years she had lived in this house, played at that park, shopped at that store, and now she was about to leave. Leave her small house painted familiar beige, with the strawberry bed near the front walk and the new sapling fruit tree to replace the old dead one. She sat on the front step looking out at the yard in front of her. Her earliest years were spent playing in that yard, and the other matching yards around it, making friends with the neighbor kids. Those kids had become her best friends, those were the friends that built her, the friends she played with every day. Who would invent silly games to play, and who's moms would make popsicles for them all to eat on hot days. All those kids had grown up and moved on, she was the last to go, the last one still living in her childhood home. She stood and walked past the houses, now filled with new, unfamiliar neighbors. She walked until she reached the park, remembering afternoons spent there, playing by the tiny creek running alongside the concrete path, and climbing on the old metal playground equipment. At some point the jungle gyms had been replaced with shiny new ones, modeled after the solar system. She looked down the street and could perfectly remember the way past the park, and through the neighborhood to get to the local natural food market, where her mom had shopped almost her whole life. Inside the store she could find any item you want from memory. The store had closed a few years ago, moved to a bigger store across town, and turned into a chain. After wandering and reminiscing for a while, she started to head back. On the way she was drawn to a few familiar spots, she knew every fruit tree that hung over the street in spring, could point out the best places to sled in the winter, and knew which street had the prettiest trees in the fall. This neighborhood had raised her, this little place where she rode her bike and played with her dolls. Her life was built around this neighborhood, but it was time to say goodbye and start building her new life. She reached her front walk, and opened the squeaky screen door, entering into the newly air conditioned living room. The walls were covered in picture frames accumulated over the years. The off white walls were almost completely obscured by the memories. She wandered from the living room and down the stairs, skipping the twelfth step out of habit. She stopped when she reached the door of her room, still shared with her two younger sisters. Markers stained the lower half or the door, and flower shaped stickers adorned the upper half. Her hand paused on the knob, then she pushed open the door to the colorful room, with children's drawings stuck on the walls, and hand me down toys strewn across the speckled carpet. Her purple and green quilt was spread neatly on her bed with boxes stacked on top of it, waiting to be moved to an unfamiliar town. She turned toward the closet, and there, hanging on the back of the door, was her pristine, white lace dress. She heard her mom approach from behind her.

"Ready to go?" Her mother asked with joy and sadness in her voice. She smiled, nodded, and picked up the dress before following her mother out of her old home, and toward her new one.