Boxes

There was a place for everything, and everything was in its place.

When you needed something from the kitchen, you knew exactly where it was (or you trashed the place looking for that favourite mug you use for your tea...you know, that clear glass one).

When you wanted to get away from the awful homework, you could go into your family room, relax on your lovely black leather sofas and play Wii.

When you needed to escape from those family-friends who had weird kids, you could escape to the safety of your room and read those books you love so much ( Harry Potter and such).

But then the news came. It didn't exactly take you by surprise, because you had become so used to it. But it still hurt a little.

All those times looking for that mug, playing Wii with friends (and losing .... sometimes ;) and hiding from
un-welcome guests are just memories, of a now empty house.

Instead of your mug's home, its become the hallow domain of the dish-washer.

Instead of your living room, it's a 'lovely area to spend time with friends and family' (as the awful person who made money off it said....I'm telling you, they could've easily been 'taken care' of).

The Harry Potter books, photos, yearbooks, Wii console, tv and couches have all disappeared.

It's no longer my home, it's simply another house on the street.

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You have no idea how much you'll be missed. From people you've only met once to people you talk to everyday, even those psychotic people you didn't like so much will feel empty for awhile (I mean who else will the leeches attack?)

P.S. -- I hate Alaska, just saying.