Angeliah Story The House That Watched Us Growing up as the youngest child of seven, I learned to say goodbye as my first word. One by one I’ve witnessed my siblings depart our home in their own unique ways. My oldest brother Scooter left first. My protector. My mind travels back to his size 9 boots stomping down the stairs. Footsteps so heavy you could hear them over the carpet. I listened at the top of the stairs, knowing I wasn’t supposed to. I listened to the screaming match with my mother. It’ s just another fight, I told myself. Until I heard “I’m tired of this!” and a slammed door that shook the picture frames. He never looked back. The second oldest Angelina left with a suitcase full of dreams, headed to a place called Penn State. I remember her hugging me a little tighter this time. As if she didn’t want to let go. Her laughter is trapped in my mind, but I don’t hear her call me from upstairs anymore. Angelica, our sweet one vanished into Vermont's air. I remember her packing a suitcase with things she’d never want our mother to find. Hair dye, lipstick, jewelry. She never explained why the house felt too small for her dreams. I realized just because her dreams were different from ours, it doesn't make them unimportant. Marquises goodbye wasn’t willingly. It came with red and blue lights with sirens that woke up the whole block. I can still see my mothers failed frown when the officer told her, “he’s not coming back tonight.” Marquita packed her hair tools and headed for a different city. The next time I ever saw her was a surprise on my instagram feed. Going by a new name “Hair By Marquita.” Lisa left the quietest of all. No yelling, no arguments, just a text at midnight reading, “I’m not ready”. I read it before my mom did, knowing I wasn’t supposed to be on her phone. I couldn’t stop looking at it, as if the longer I stared the faster she would come back. And me? I’m still here. Sitting in the house full of goodbyes. Watching the dinner mats go from 8 to 2, noticing my mom tell the waiter “party for 2” now, noticing how low the laundry got, the toothbrushes unused. This experience of them leaving caused a realization. Every slammed door taught me that leaving is easy. I don’t owe this house perfection, but I do owe it a better ending. I realize that I’m not a shadow, I’m my own person. Despite Scooter leaving me with his fierceness, lina leaving me with her humor, Angelica leaving me with her kindness, Marquise leaving me with his stubbornness, Kita leaving me with her determination, and Lisa leaving me with her silence, I realize I am still me. I am my own person. I will be the last one out, but only when I’m ready.