Sanctity

Chapter 7

A few weeks before my 9th birthday we sold our apartment and bought a new home. The day the movers came and packed up all our belongings was bright and sunny. While they were busy loading the truck, I sat on the sidewalk with my friend Erica and we said our final goodbyes. My parents called me over once the movers secured everything and I climbed into the back of our car. We followed the moving van as it pulled out and I frantically waved to Erica until she disappeared from view. During the ride I thought about our old apartment and how much I would miss my life there. It was really exciting, though, to be moving into house.

Michael was out of town but he and my dad had been working together for a few months. He was the one who recommended the neighborhood to my parents when he learned we were looking for a new home. Most of the houses were traditional in style and built in little alcoves cut into the surrounding forest to give the residents a sense of privacy. Michael thought it would be perfect since the subdivision was only a few miles from the interstate and an easy commute for my dad.

The ride from our apartment lasted about a half hour and went by quickly. When we pulled into the driveway, I noticed the movers weren't wasting any time and had already begun unloading our furniture. The front door lay open, so I hurried inside and did a quick scan of the main floor before running upstairs to inspect my bedroom.

It was much bigger than my old room and painted in a light, buttery yellow. Instead of a slider, on the far wall there were two French doors that led onto a tiny patio. The closet stood to the left as you walked in and the bathroom to the right. I had grown out of all my old furniture so everything in my room was new. I walked around and tentatively tested my dresser drawers and ran my fingers over my bedspread then plumped the pillows.

"Perfect," I smiled when I finished my examination.

After I scampered back downstairs, I took a closer look at some of the other rooms. My parents were busy directing the moving men where they wanted certain things placed. My dad saw me as I dodged out of their way and after a deep breath he suggested I go outside and do a little exploring.

"Why don't you take a look at the backyard or walk in the woods for a bit. Just don't go too far. You should be alright as long as you can see the house."

I shrugged and took his advice. After heading out the front door I made my way across the yard to the back of the house. The woods bordered the lawn in a wide arch from one side of the property to the other. I started near the garage and stepped a few feet into the trees. From there I walked the length of the backyard before I moved a few more feet in and looped back. I did this several times - moved a little further into the trees, looped, a little further.

It seemed nice in the woods; cool and fresh and utterly quiet except for the sound of my footsteps. There were quite a few broken limbs lying on the ground as well as a heavy covering of old leaves. It smelled earthy and damp as I got further in. The trees made a thick canopy that blocked out much of the sunlight and as I got further in, it grew slightly dark. While I walked, I wondered if I might eventually be able to see one of our neighbor's houses. The woods seemed a lot bigger than I imagined they would be, though, and the only thing I found was more trees.

After a few more steps I stopped and looked back. I could still make out our house but decided not to go any further and started back. I came out at a different point than where I went in and noticed an aging swing set tucked into the corner of the yard. To the left of the swings lay a little flower bed that seemed made up mostly of wildflowers. One of the blooms caught my eye. I walked over and snapped a bud off its stalk then took the flower with me as I made my way into the house.