House Note 

You don’t remember much. You don’t remember growing up in the house you live in now because you were barely there. You spent most of your time with your grandparents in Staten Island, thinking that their house was your own. Once they sell the house you fail to remember it the way you once did, and all you can recall is the bright red door and the bamboo forest you used to think was haunted. 

Now, the home you once didn’t remember is all you know. You fill it with new memories because you aren’t aware of the old ones. As the years pass the memories of your room with the purple walls start to fade. 

You can’t remember exactly how it used to look because one day you left your house and everything changed. You don’t remember where you went, but you must have been gone for a long time, cause all of a sudden you had a new front door, with keys that really worked. The green couch you once loved was red now, and that weird window that looked at absolutely nothing was no longer there, and your room with the purple walls is no longer purple. 

Your room is empty, toys of your childhood gone, and instead replaced with a desk and computer. As you live in your room, it starts to grow into a piece of you, and suddenly your walls begin to fill. They fill with pictures of you and your friends, they fill with posters of your favorite artists, and they fill with the clutter you leave behind. Now, it’s hard for you to look back at your old room. 

Did the bed really used to be on that side of the room? Is your dresser near the windows and not near the door? Your desk, which is now perfectly framed by said windows was tucked into a corner. It doesn’t make sense, and you don’t really remember it. This gets you thinking, will I remember the room I’m in now? Or will it fade away like everything else?