I will tell you the story of a life-changing and unexplainable gateway to a brand new existence. Over 16 years ago, my family decided to move. I remember that day that marked the real birth of my life as if it were yesterday. I was forced to move from the only home I had ever known.

Our beat up caravan was jam-packed. I felt like I could barely move. It sounded like it was ready to breakdown as it traveled tirelessly for incalculable hours. The final half hour of our ride was spent ascending the narrow and windy mountain road that led to our new house.

My head was pulsating and my stomach felt queasy from the newfound smell of cow manure trickling through the cracks of the windows. Not to mention the car sickness I felt from the never-ending bends that hugged the elevating dirt road.

After what seemed like hours of sketching different cartoon characters in my sketchbook, we pulled up in front of a tattered -looking two-story house. Decaying wood panels peeled away from a lot of the house’s outer shell. The windows were opaque from the thick layers of dust and dirt that covered them. I cringed as I gazed at the bold, capital red letters that read “SOLD” on the ancient-looking sign staked in the front yard.

As my family got out of the car with absolute enthusiasm, I slouched down and stared at the battered dump that I now have to call “home”. How could my parents snatch me away from all I had ever known? My three-year old little sister, Maggie, was totally oblivious and would never know the heartache of being forced to leave her three lifelong friends. It just wasn't fair.

I would have to start eighth grade as the “new boy” at Rocky Edge Middle School the following day. It was all because my father was offered a more “solid” position as the general manager for a steakhouse in town. Why did we move so far away from town anyway? It would take us at least 30 minutes to get anywhere. And, what kind of name is Rock Edge for a school?

My mother sounded extremely annoyed as she yelled my name.

“Matthew, stop sulking and come see our new house!”

Irritated to have arrived, I tried to ignore what I heard. I honestly did not care to speak to my parents for moving me so far away. After a few moments,  I opened the sliding door of the caravan and a few of our things fell out onto the dirt-covered ground that was assumed to be our driveway.

As I picked up the clutter my mother should have thrown out in the first place, I faintly heard the happy echoes of my sister giggling as my father chased her around our overgrown yard. It just annoyed me even more.

From off into the distance, my mother could see the anguish on my face. She walked over to me and opened her arms to hug me as she said,

“I know it doesn’t look like much now, but this house is going to be great once we fix it up! You will learn to love it here as much as you loved our old house.”

 I broke my livid vow of silence in the undeniable comfort of her arms and invited the possibility of becoming somewhat acquainted in this mind-numbing and modest town. Not sure where my next words came from, I offered my mom some encouragement.

 “As much as I will miss my friends, I will give our new home a fair chance, Mom.”

My mother smiled as she realized my hesitant acceptance in an effort to please her.

She turned to the open trunk of the car and struggled to boost up the heavily-taped, brown box into her arms. I returned a half smile and grabbed a box to offer my support.

As we walked toward the decomposing, wooden front porch, a white moving truck pulled up behind our van and turned off the engine.

My father scooped up my sister and made his way to instruct the movers as my mother and I opened the heavy, wooden front door for the first time. My mother made comments of the dust that flickered through the air where the sunlight shone through the cracks of the time-worn walls.

My mom showed some frustration with some furniture that was unexpectedly found covered in sheets - still occupying much of the long-abandoned space. In a obsessive attempt to be the model homemaker,  my mother grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Windex to start cleaning as quickly as she could.

My father flipped open his cell phone, which held a very faint signal, to confirm our scheduled electric, television and cable connections. As the movers carried out the final pieces of existing furniture, my mother pushed on to complete her irritating habit of perfection. I rolled my eyes as I watched her frantically wipe away the last of the cob webs that consumed all corners of the ceilings. She also somehow managed to finish polishing the hard wood floors. I swear that she doesn’t even breathe sometimes in order to get it all done! But, it is because of her craze to clean that for the first time since our arrival, this ruin began to look like an actual house.

After many grueling hours after we pulled into the driveway, the main living areas met my mother’s standards. We were finally able to sit down.

I became more comfortable as I looked around to discover a more familiar array of furniture. Our electric and cable was connected, and the large holes in the siding were temporarily boarded.

The adrenaline was finally draining from everyone as the daylight began to fade.

My mother called out to me as she finished wiping down the kitchen counters after dinner,

 “Matthew, please go brush your teeth. You have a very big day tomorrow.”

With I sigh, I got up and made my way toward the foul bleach fumes that lingered in the hallway. After I brushed my teeth, I headed even further down the hall to my new bedroom.

My mother covered my walls with several of my drawings to make the room mine. I appreciated her considering my likes, but it would only be days before I rearranged it. It looked like a hospital room. The walls were a boring variation of beige, my pictures neatly in a row on the open wall where my door was situated. It was gonna take a lot of getting used to.

I ripped the covers down and completely un-tucked them before laying down. I just laid there while a million thoughts swam through my mind about my first day at an unfamiliar new school.