Moving to America
The rickety old gray TV screen that comes out the wall, the sun-bleached couch, the colorful patterns on the pillow, and the white crunchy snow on the glistening London ground set the scene. I am 6 years old and it's 2016, lying on the couch with my sister watching Postman Pat when I hear a creeeaaaak. My mom and her crazy bed hair comes out of her room like a bear comes out of his cave. “Kids!” she screams.
“What?” we yell back.
“Come here now so I can talk to you about something urgent, please!”
My sister Sophie and I stomp upstairs a little angry that we had to pause the telly.
“What, Mom?’’ I ask, bursting in the room.
“Sit down, we need to talk about a life-changing decision! We have decided to move to America.” Me and my sister both sit there in shock.
“WHAT!?” I scream.
“I know, I know it's not your ideal situation, but I promise you it will be okay, and you never know, we might move back here in a couple years. Your dad's work is just important, and they want us to move,” my mom says in a calming tone.
“We don't even get a say!” my sister exclaims.
“I can show you pictures of the house, which might change your mind a little bit, and the weather there is so good. Luke, we have a big backyard and a POOL! You can make new friends and bring them over to our house.”
“But I already have friends here.”
“It’s not ideal for us either.”
My mom and my nanny Rachel decide to throw a going away party and all of my friends are invited. We were holding it at my favorite playground in central London. There is an awesome marshmallow lollipop. We ate it and I was stuffed. I talk to all of my friends and I say goodbye. The person I was going to miss the most was Rachel for whom for 5 years was our nanny.
So we move to America. Seeing the pictures of the house, I thought it was pretty cool, but it still wasn't my favorite thing ever. We fly in a plane over with all of our stuff, got to the house in Menlo Park , and I settle down, but there was still a lot of unpacking to do and my sister, and I had to share a bedroom for the first time.
“You will each get 10 boxes of our stuff, then you guys will be done for today, but remember to put the stuff in the boxes where they belong. If you have questions where things go ask me or your dad,” my mom shouts.
“Ok, but first can I look around the house?”
“Sure.”
I run through the white painted hallway into my room. There is nothing in there. It feels weird there was nothing to play with, the house is just blank. I went outside, my Mom was right this was awesome. There is this massive backyard with plants everywhere and there is so much area to play. I was so excited to pump up my soccer ball and build my soccer goal to start playing with my dad. Then it hit me that I would start school in a week. I finally finish unpacking all of my stuff and the house feels normal. We walked around the house and we went outside as a family this time.
Then all of a sudden my sister pushes me in the pool. The cold surface hit me like a bullet. My dad helped me out and I got super mad at my sister. My dad had to calm me down and we went into my room to change. We came out to have dinner feeling warm again and in a better mood. I actually was having a lot of fun with my sister when we play hide and go seek outside. I am hiding in the bushes and I see this really weird looking statue. It's rusted and broken. I got kinda scared because it was staring into my soul. I run out but trip on the bushes. I scratch my leg on branches and sticks. My sister hits me and pops her head through the rose bushes.
“What happened?” my sister exclaims.
“What do you think?” I respond in an angry tone.
“Don't have to be so mad.”
I got mad and charged into the house screaming for my dad that I tripped and saw the crazy weird statue.
“Calm down, child,” my dad shouts.
I sit down on the couch and turn on the TV after we get the power running into the TV.
“Dad, where's Postman Pat?”
“They don't have it here. You will have to try and find something else to watch.”
I am already not having the best day. I got mad and flipped through all 1000 channels until I found this thing called Nickelodeon. It looks weird but my style. Paw Patrol comes on and it looks really cool. Little did I know it was gonna become one of my favorite shows.
A few months later and we are all settled in. School is going fine and I make some friends. My friends come over to my house a few times. I had started at a new soccer club called Alpine Strikers after bouncing around from a few different soccer clubs. I had joined their second team. In a year I would go on to join their first team.
So life in America was going grand. It wasn't all that it was cut out to be but it was awesome. I feel like this is the right decision and I am satisfied with this living situation even though sharing it with my sister isn't that good.
