One cold December morning my dad woke me up with
the chilling news that we had to move out of the house I loved the most.
My father told me to sit down so we could both discuss our new house. I
had moved more than once, so it was no shock to me.
I had lived on was Homer Street for as long as I can remember. On the
right side of the street was my orange house. It had one floor, a wide
backyard, though the house had a lot of roots coming from the floor
messing our garage and fence. After eating some casual breakfast, my
father asked my brother and me if we wanted to see the new house. My
brother and I quickly blurted out “Yes!” As my dad drove to the new
house, we kept on passing many interesting streets, until we entered
As we entered Freedom Street, my father stopped the car on the left side
of the street, saying, “There she is.” I turned around to see our new
house. It was green as a pure lemon and had a big fat Hawaiian like
leafy tree by the drive way. It had beautiful white sage flowers, fresh
green cut grass, and a red pathway that swirled like a snake. The house
had one floor and the neighborhood was right because it was very
peaceful and quiet. When we entered the house, it smelled like fresh
“Eww! What is that smell?!” my brother screamed.
“Well get used to it,” my father grumbled. “It’s the smell of our new
home,” he added.
I walked around the house and it was cool. The hall had a wide space,
the two rooms were big with white walls and spaced closets. I could just
already imagine us in our new home.
“Hey, Dad, when are we moving in?!” I asked, yelling.
“In two more weeks!” he answered, also yelling.
As the two weeks came to an end, my family and I were already packed. We
went from Homer Street to Freedom Street carrying many boxes. On the
last box I took a moment to remember the memories my family and I had in
the house and said goodbye.
As we got to the new house and I unloaded the last box from my dad’s
Nissan white pickup truck, I noticed our next door neighbors staring at
us. They stared very narrow, like an eagle looking at their pray. For
many weeks we unpacked. The house was so organized it looked as if it
was a sweet magnificent hotel. When school ended, then the first day of
summer began. I woke up on a hot sunny morning. As usual my mother and I
were always up, and my father and brother were still sleeping. Later in
the afternoon, the heat grew so intense as if the sun were right next to
me. Although it was hot, the house did have a wonderful A.C. that kept
us cool. I sat down to watch T.V. Suddenly the doorbell rang and as
always kids must check the window. When I checked the window and saw a
lady standing in front of the door. My mom was the only person in the
house because my dad and brother weren’t home.
When my mom answered the door, the lady cheerfully said hello. She was a
proud country woman wearing a rose red elegant dress and her hair was
very blonde. She had pure green eyes and a country soft voice. She came
into our house along with an apple pie baked to perfection. The lady sat
down and began to talk about the neighborhood and greeting us.
“This place is wonderful; that’s if your next door neighbor don’t ruin
it,” the lady said.
“I’m sorry, what?” my mom said confused.
“Yeah,” the lady said.
“Your next door neighbors made two families move out of this very home.
Well I have to go home now,” the lady said. “Bye!” she cheerfully said
as she left out the door.
Later that night, my parents discussed what the lady said. My father
ignored the lady’s comment and reassured my mom that everything was
going to be fine. After those words, my mom said “OK” and we all went to
bed. The next morning our problems began. Early that morning, I woke up
startled from a familiar scream like my dad’s, a strong and surprised
shout. I rushed outside to the cold to see my dad’s pickup truck all
scratched up, all four tires flat, and the front window cracked. After
the incident, my dad set out to go to the car dealership in my mom’s
black Toyota Camry when our next door neighbor’s teenage son came out of
nowhere, almost hitting our car, causing the teenage boy to blame my
father for wanting to run him over. Many things like this happened to
us, things like them blaming us for stealing their tools, the teenager
scratching our home windows, the youngest son hurting my little brother,
complaining we were too loud especially on parties, and calling the cops
twice for just having a party guest’s car parked on the side of their
home. It was like jail and other people from the street disliked us
because of all the rumors they made about us.
One day my little brother was going outside to ride his bike. My mother
told me to go outside in case anything happened to him while they fixed
the backyard door. So as I stepped out; I saw the youngest child from
next door neighborhood. His name was Michael, a.k.a. “whiner boy.” He
was sensitive, selfish, short, and six years old, which made him three
years older than my brother.
Michael was pushing my brother, forcing him to get off the bike, and
Michael’s mom was on the phone outside as if nothing was happening. I
ran to haul Michael away from my brother. Michael landed on the ground
and began crying, causing his mother to come.
“What did you do?” she yelled.
“Nothing” I said nervously, hiding my brother behind me.
“You could have hurt him,” she said, grabbing Michael, who was still
“What are you doing?” a lady roared.
I was surprised she was sticking up for me. With all the commotion
Michael’s dad had come.
“Take those revolting children out of my face”! He yelled.
“These children aren’t revolting. Maybe if you were nice you could have
met these young sweet children. And how come your one-year-old hasn’t
stop crying?!” the lady said.
“He’s six”! Michael’s mom yelled.
“I hadn’t noticed,” the lady said.
Michael’s parents were shocked and returned to their home, slamming the
“Now, are you guys OK?” she said.
“Yes and thank you,” I said, hugging her.
Later that day, my parents found out what happened. My parents
apologized for what happened and discussed the commotion. A week later
we found out that Michael’s family was moving because they had little
money. On the same day they were moving, the lady invited my family to
her home to have a barbeque. During the barbeque, my little brother
played with the lady’s youngest son, my father talked to lady’s husband
about fitness and sports, my mom and the lady spoke about women life,
and me I became good friends with the lady’s eldest son.