Hwrites

I keep dreaming of that house I lived in. It looked ugly on the outside, it being a company-provided house, a hideous shade of blue painted on it. There was a huge mango tree right by our front yard, giving us one of the sweetest mangoes I've ever tasted in my entire life. I still chase that taste whenever I try mangoes now. Everything was sweeter when I was eight and unaware.

I remember that one particular shelf in the house. Small spaces stacked upon each other. We used to dump all our clothes there. We didn't have much space to keep our clothes. Everything felt too small. Like we had too much baggage brought along with us when we moved. There were always a bunch of things scattered on our floor. At night, when we all huddled up in a room to sleep, there wasn't much space for six people. Our feet always grazed the wall across. Small windows, newspaper stuck all over it. The orange street light still managed to seep into our bedroom. I used to stare at it until I fell asleep, not being able to turn this or that side because my sisters would be sleeping right beside me.

Houses like that weren't made for six people to live in. But my happiest times were when I lived there. So beautiful that in my dreams, I yearn to go back to that house. Now in my early 20s, I dream of the house so often that it keeps attaching the people I know to it. I'd dream of them coming to the house, a home to be honest. And they'd all sit next to me and ask questions about the shelves that always looked like they were spilling out of clothes. I'd become 8 again, introducing them to my shelf in my dream because I loved that I had something of my own.

I'd wake up and feel horrible and heavy. I wouldn't want to move my limbs. The dreams linger in the back of my mind. I'd quietly wipe my tears away and I wouldn't even realize that I was crying. Mother would yell at me to get a move on and I'd stare at my red and puffy eyes while I brush my teeth and wish I could go back in time.

The thing is we've moved three houses. But A405 will always be a home. As I got older I realized that the bigger your house, the smaller you'll feel. The more rooms, the lonelier you feel.