PurpleFishArt

United States

Hello fellow writers! I'm Athena, an avid writer, bullet-journaler (is that a word??) and entrepreneur. And just like @Huba Huba, I put milk in before cereal :O !!

Message to Readers

Any feedback is appreciated!

Yellow Hat

December 20, 2020

FREE WRITING

2
Every day, at seven in the morning, the family wakes up and so do I. The alarm clock screeches; the shriek echoes through all of my rooms. The pounding of their feet on my floor shakes my body and rings in my ears. Wake up, they call to each other, wake up!

Soon, I’m overwhelmed by the scents wafting through each room. I peek into the kitchen, where the mother, sweat beaded on her forehead, is frying five eggs - one for each member of the family. After breakfast, one by one, they all leave to go to school and work. But I’m assured knowing that they will return. 

They always do. 

But one day, the alarm clock rings, and something feels different. It may be how the family is running up and down my stairs; even as I switch from room to room to see what they are doing, I don’t understand why. Suddenly, I realize a moving van is parked in my driveway. Men in blue shirts start flooding through my front door, carrying large boxes out.

I remember these men. They brought the family to me, and now they’re taking them away. In the days before they moved in, when I was still a mere listing on Redfin, I was so lonely. Then the family arrived on my doorstep, a happy crowd of two parents and three children, one a wailing baby in the mother’s arms. Throughout the seven years they have lived here, I watched the children - two girls and one boy - grow up, each year that went by bringing them closer and closer to my ceiling, to me. 

But today, they’re leaving and never coming back.

When the last of the family’s furniture is removed by the men in blue shirts, a deep calmness descends over my rooms. I’m used to being empty, but I can’t help but let a deep wave of loneliness wash over me. Though all of my doors and windows are closed, it feels like there is a cold wind drifting through my rooms. 

I wait. At first, the days pass by agonizingly slowly. I shuffle and creak on my floorboards, the air in my rooms quickly turning uncomfortably stale. Soon, though, I lose track on the days - mornings blending to evenings to nights, then all over again. People shuffle in and out of my rooms, their feet wrapped in flimsy plastic to protect my floors; yet none of them return. In the months I am left empty, I dream of the perfect family that would occupy me. They would be similar to the first family, but perhaps with two children instead of three - my floorboards ached from all the running and bouncing of the little boy. 

Then, one day, a new family comes to visit me. They are as different from the first as night and day, with a mother, a grandmother, and a ragtag mix of four children who bear no resemblance to their mother. Wearing a daffodil yellow sunhat, the youngest daughter skips around my hallways. When she touches my walls, I laugh; it feels like I’m being tickled. As the grandmother walks by the mantle, she can’t help but use a cloth from her purse to wipe off the dust. They are far from the perfect family I was envisioning, but suddenly that image seems irrelevant. I fall in love with them immediately. 

A few more families come in, but none of them have the same effect on me as the ragtag family. Two weeks later, a “Sold” sign is pounded into my lawn, each hit of the hammer echoing my beating heart.

On the day the bright red moving van slides into my driveway, I hold my breath. 

The window rolls down, and then I see it - 

A yellow hat. 
A story from the perspective of a house. Hope you enjoy! :)

Print

See History
  • December 20, 2020 - 12:39pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

2 Comments
  • Huba Huba

    Woaaaah I like it!!!! Good job Ploop!!!!!!!!!!!


    9 months ago
  • Busssy.Beee

    Ooh, i never thought about things from a pov of a house... cool!!


    9 months ago