I’m moving out of my apartment today, packing boxes and cleaning, and wondering where all this stuff came from. I guess I can’t be too attached to the apartment I’ve been subletting for barely over two months, but there’s something special about this tiny apartment with the awkwardly arranged kitchen and plants that grow leaves just to let them die and fall all over my belongings. It’s special in that sentimental landmark on my way to becoming an adult sort of way because it was the first place I lived in on my own. It was my space (okay, maybe it was Alejandro’s, the Argintinian graduate student’s space and I just sublet it, but it was mine for a short time).
Now, I throw my belongings into the trunk of my car and head towards my parents’ house to take it all back out again and store it in boxes for a month. I have a few days until I leave for Italy and a month there and then two weeks at the end of July before I can finally settle down into another place to call my own. I’m in that wobbly stage of life right now where all the things about me that were once concrete aren’t so firm anymore. In a month I will no longer be a student, that mark of identity that has led me through most of my life. And my parents’ house is no longer my home. No matter how many times I visit and how much I love staying there, it is not mine. I have to find my own home now.
With that being said, here is the first draft of my latest story, appropriately titled Home. The setting is based on the actual resort development in Eastern Washington where my parents live. And for all of you who heard my tragic story of how Eastern Washington tried to kill me when I visited my parents a few weeks ago, the passing out while running story is true too. I felt very compelled while at my parents’ house to write this story. I’ve never experienced this feeling of wandering before and I enjoyed exploring it in the context of a short story.
Let me know what you think, especially about her pregnancy. I wanted the main character to be pregnant because it added another level to her reconciliation with her parents. She’s trying to come to terms with the fact that she has no place to call home while at the same time figuring out how to make a home for her unborn child. I didn’t want her to tell her parents about the pregnancy because I didn’t feel like that was the main issue of the story. She’s trying to close the chapter on one part of her life (namely childhood) before she can be ready to open another (namely parenthood). But, in making her pregnancy a sort of sub-plot, I wonder if it sticks out as not really belonging to the story as a whole. So what do you think? Should she be pregnant? What does it add to the story? Does it take anything away? Let me know your thoughts.
Here is the link: