The brown wooden fence that surrounds the home almost lifting from the ground and falling on its side because of its weathering state. The old plastic dog houses that the last owners left now covered with spiderwebs and leaves. It’s hard finding things to do even in this new town with new people who don’t know I just moved here. The birds chirped louder and the stray cats run across the street faster, I never knew how much I would miss the old me, with my old home this much until the day came when I left it for good.
The days go by faster since graduating and I’ve never felt so alone, I don’t know who I want to be, where I want to go or how I will end up there but I know that the cars at night will still be loud right outside my front door, the afternoons will still be quiet, and the chickens will still crow each morning.
Each night as I dry my tears with my pillowcase I wonder if I would’ve known where to go after high school if I still lived in my old home. I laugh out loud and think to myself what would make me happier, is it the people, this house, or me? I can never seem to settle with my thoughts because they spiral and make me question things no 17-year-old should think about this late at night.
I can hear young kids still filled with joy as they laugh and scream each other’s names, the police here are busier than in my old neighborhood not even old people dare to walk the afternoons, no matter the good weather. Thinking of making friends all over again makes me nauseous, thinking of new changes makes me want to relive old memories in my dreams. There are no frogs here to keep me up at night just empty fields waiting to catch fire in the summer heat. I hope when the dark clouds come and it start starts to rain the streets get slippery and the dirt gets thick while we trace mud all through the dry concrete under the porch so hopefully the smell of wet rocks can bring me back to where I came from. The dog doesn’t bark as much as it used to maybe he realized the change or maybe he has no one to bark to. I hope this new home is full of surprising memories that fill our hearts with joy; I Hope Sundays are as sunny and bright, but for now they stay dark and lonely.
Change is scary, change is hard, is what I tell myself every day this house doesn’t make me change my mind. Summer is ending and I wish it could last forever if that meant you wouldn’t go. We’ve never been this close and distance, but so far away in love. I hope you have an exciting life out there in the city and I hope I don’t miss you too much to forget about you completely.
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The first thing that caught my attention is that the voice is young in an intentional way. Not immature, but full of confusion and that strange nostalgia that comes after big changes. I don't think you’re trying to make the narrator sound wise beyond their years, which is so common in these types of essays.
Like this:
This is, to me, your thesis. It’s not about missing a place -- it’s about missing a version of yourself that lived there. That’s something most people won’t admit until they’re much older, but it is here. It is beautiful!
I see you have a strong theme of time running through this, as well. The days go by faster, summer ends, kids grow up. That makes everything feel suspended in this in-between state that is so common with growing up. It’s like the narrator is caught in a memory fog, and I love that!
It is hard to write about personal feelings without diverging too far into subjective emotions though! There are some clarity issues. For example:
This sentence is difficult to understand. It might read smoother as something like:
I read this as a personal essay, and it might not be, but I think that it is a matter of balancing personal from objective facts that you're writing about. The fence is lifting from the ground, but you can show that through description rather than telling your audience. It is better for these essays to remain more vague!
This reads almost like a stream of consciousness, which works here, but I feel you could consider paragraphing more. That is minor and stylistic, but it is a way of using the format itself for reflection. That is fitting! Like:
That could be its own paragraph!
Good job though!
Hey there!! I'm here to give you a review on this interesting short story. Apologies if it's a bit short.
First of all, I think this is a lovely ode to the fear of growing up and change. Your descriptions are so rich! I feel like I'm in the narrator's shoes, experiencing all the things they are.
Something I notice throughout is how the topic is vague, yet keeps changing somehow. The narrator has left their childhood home, and is afraid of what's to come. I think this is the strongest theme you cover--and the one most fitting of this tone. Mentioning the children laughing, and the narrator's thoughts definitely add a new layer to the story.
But in the last paragraph, you mention a love--this is intriguing, but I find myself wondering what it means in the context of the piece. Missing a person, while adding depth, doesn't fit with the rest of the story, and could probably be cut from the narrative. I think if you stick with the narrator's fear of change and their hopes for their new home, it'll be a lovely, fleshed-out piece!
Overall, I definitely enjoyed reading this! Your descriptions are again lovely.
Keep writing!
<3, daisy
not sure if this essay was made recently or not, but as someone who has graduated recently, i definitely relate to some of the emotion towards graduating in this piece. love the writing here!! the descriptions are so lovely, and the few run-on sentences adds so much without most of them feeling awkward. i can feel so much through this!