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The smell of autumn fills my room, and with it a single, red leaf. I must have fallen asleep with the window open all night.
Fall is my favorite season. I just love the beautiful colors that the leaves change into.
As I get out of bed, I am distracted by the branches of color moving outside my window. The wind is so strong that some leaves have no choice but to be ripped from where they were born. The wind carries them to the forest floor, where they spend their remaining day drying up and cracking, until they are nothing but bits of what was once part of a tall, strong, and stunning oak tree.
Some leaves, though, are more secure and keep their hold tight because they don't want to let go or move on. Like me. Since my mom died last year, things have never been the same.
The walls that once held laughter and joy now keep quiet. I guess I'm like those leaves that keep holding on because it still feels like she was here yesterday, driving me to school and wishing me a good day as she drives off.
"ANDREA, WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE," Dad yells up from the bottom step downstairs.
Well, I guess I'd better hurry. I suppose he doesn't want to be late for his first day either. Although going to school with my father, who is also a math teacher at the same school I'm attending, is a little embarrassing, so on second thought, maybe I should just text the twins. Tess and Unity got their driver's licenses. Well, at least Tess did. After Unity got into a car accident with her parents 6 years ago, coming back from the movies, a crazy, drunk driver rammed their car. Both their parents died on impact. Ever since then, she has been too scared to be in the car, let alone try to drive one, so she sits in the back where she feels safest. I don't blame her, I would too.
Now that I think about it, how did the twins move on? They lost both their parents. I just lost my mom last year. Are they like the leaves outside my window, holding on for dear life, looking more and more beautiful, or like me? Giving up and being ripped away, feeling lost and alone, being pushed to the ground and left to lie waste. Left to crack, break, to be nothing but a pile of dust.
I think they moved on, but are still holding on to that oak tree.
