That was nice…

I remember the first day we came here I wouldn’t let go of my cow. (A plush toy that made a ‘moo-ing’ sound when squeezed) I got it as a good-bye gift from my classmates in the second class. I don’t have any contact with any of them anymore now.

I remember that we walked all the way around the apartment block because we were unsure to where the little dark passageway led to. Then after few days I was brave enough to walk down through it with my brother. It saved us about a four minute walk.

I remember that when we came into our room it was empty. And when I saw the bed – my first thought was – JUMP.

I remember that we had fishing rods and me and my brother used to play with them – pretending that we were Jedi. (Dangerous I know … we did it when parents weren’t watching).

I remember mum on the stool covering the entire kitchen in Cif making it look like it snowed, and scrubbing. Inside and out of the cupboards.

I remember the couches being stuck up against the walls (like right now) making the living room a tiny dance studio for me.

I remember the tiny screen on the huge TV we brought here first. And every single summer day spent on the floor with my brother watching SpongeBob.

I remember the first day in school when I sat with my head down crying – all day – sitting at the same desk with the boy I had a crush on later. (Or at least that’s what I told myself).

I remember the countless hours spend on the couches. Watching movies. Playing games. Playing guitar. On my computer. Reading books. Drinking tea. Beer. Other alcohols. Being sick. Being sad. Happy. Angry.

I remember mum taking us to the games store for the very first time in my life and buying a PlayStation 2 for my brother and Nintendo for me. So we wouldn’t be bored.

I remember wrapping all the Christmas gifts for parents and my brother in my parents room. First one being chocolates .. which I bought about three weeks early, resulting in my mum opening them early so they wouldn’t melt or something.

I remember the biggest failure of a birthday party EVER. When I invited almost the entire class and only three people showed up. My best friend at the time. Her crush who she forced me to invite. And a guy that annoyed the living shit out of me. The evening was spend buy eating cake, guys playing PlayStation 2 with my brother and me talking with my friend.

I remember every time I cried after/during a fight with my parents.

I remember every single fight my parents had.

I remember when my brother got his first air-soft rifle and shot the TV.

I remember every single time I lied for him. For eating … what he hasn’t actually. For doing work … he hasn’t actually done. For skipping college. For looking for a job. For setting things on fire. For using computer or PlayStation when he was grounded.

I remember writing my first book here. Stressing to get it in a reasonably good state.

I remember filming two of my first YouTube videos here. Neither of which had ever even the right of thought to be uploaded.

I remember writing my very first song with my friend on the edge of my parents bed. Thinking at the time that we will become the next pop stars.

I remember the wrestling championships that I won with my brother. Which we organised.  In the middle of the living room.

I remember all the silly games that I played with myself. Teacher. Can’t walk on lava. Store. Dance studio. I have a boyfriend but I like someone else. You-tuber. Interviews.

I remember the fails of art I tried to come up with.

I remember the evenings with my friends playing hide and seek on the parking lot.

I remember the parties we had and the way I would be dreading them more with every year added to my age.


I remember when mum thought me to do my first laundry here.

I remember when dad helped me with building my first hamster cage.

I remember packing.

I remember leaving.



And now all I can think about is not coming home there.


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