nightlight / / matt

m a t t 》》

Moving. Everyone that has ever done it, knows that it sucks. I am leaving my home in sunny southern California, to go to cloudy Virginia. My dad got a job promotion out there, so I guess we're moving.

You could say I'm not at all happy, but that would be an understatement. My parents told me 3 days before we actually leave. 3 days to say goodbye to all of my memories. 3 days to leave behind my friends and girlfriend. 3 days left with my home that I have lived in for 17 years. 3 days until my life changes forever.

/ / next day / /

Here I sit on an American Airlines flight to the other side of the country. All of my friends from my childhood, including my girlfriend, came to the airport to say goodbye one last time. And as the plane took off I realized that I still had a million things to say.

I just left my whole life behind me in California. As soon as I turn 18, I am leaving Virginia and going back to my life.

Hours later, the wheels of the plane touched the black pavement below. My family and I walked off the plane and towards the baggage claim.

/ /

"Guys," My mom addressed my siblings and me, "this is your new home!" she squealed in excitement, pointing to the large, cream colored home in front of us. I notice a balcony and, as sad about moving as I am, shout "I CALL THE BALCONY ROOM" before anyone else can. "But mmmaaattttt!" Kristen whined, clearly she had been eyeing it. "Hey, you snooze, you lose." I stuck my tongue out at her before stepping onto the porch. My mom opened the huge door and grinned. This place is humongous! Marbled floors, beige walls, tons of hallways, a grand piano in the living room, a double staircase, and so much more. "How did you guys afford this?" I gaped at my dad. "Job promotions, son, job promotions." He wandered off down one of the hallways. I ran upstairs to find the room with the balcony. I turn a corner and see a huge room with two French doors leading to the concrete landing outside. I run up, open the doors, and peer over the ledge. "Woah." that's high up.

/ /

4 hours later, and my white room has been decorated with pictures from back home, navy blue bed sheets, and everything from my old room. Except for one thing, my nightlight. Now I know what you're thinking, 'Matt, you're 17, why do you have a nightlight?', well, it's simple. I'm afraid of the dark. I know, I know, it's stupid and childish, but it's true. I grab the little light from my bag and find an outlet by the door. I kneel down on the ground to plug it in, as I hear my French doors being opened, and the smell of smoke.

"So," I hear a girls voice and turn around. The first thing I see is her feet, which were decorated in scuffed black leather boots, next I see black ripped skinny jeans, a nirvana t-shirt with a black leather jacket covering, and her hair, which was shoulder length and wavy dark brown with hot pink tips. She takes the cigarette out of her mouth, leaving it dangling in her fingertips to complete her sentence, "the new kid still uses a nightlight."