When I walk in, my mother greets me by saying how great it is to have a daughter, even if she is a runaway. For her, my life in New York is equivalent to running away from my family.
Cedar Lane hasn’t changed. The house is the same, just as leafy and green as before. I run on a trail that stretches about 3 miles. My legs cramp and my ankles ache- the doctor tells me it’s from dehydration and being cold. I like the trail because there aren’t too many trees, but just enough wide roads and nature to make me feel like I am away from the city and closer to nature.
The roads are constantly under construction, bridges are being built, and the metro slows down because of it. But people don’t change. They adjust. They leave a few minutes earlier, and come home a few minutes later, get to their cars and drive home. Underneath me, cars move in both directions, fast, and I run above, on the bridge, looking down under, wondering if they can make out what I look like. When I reach the end of the trail, the hill becomes steeper, I am out of breath, and because my ankles ache, I stop my jog and force myself to walk with a quick pace.
While at Cedar, I am at peace. Perhaps because by now my heart knows New York too well, and though my soul needs it, my mind needs the peace and quiet. The best thing about sleeping is waking up to the sound of nothingness, sometimes birds chirping, but even that is too delightful to complain about. I love looking at my room, much bigger than the one in New York, and seeing nothing but trees, leaves, branches, and our beautiful yard. There is so much beauty that I once neglected to appreciate. And now as I count my days at Cedar, I cherish the seconds, and wonder when my next summer of Cedar will be.
I say my goodbyes, and my father waves, always asking me to come back soon, always bringing me to tears. My mother hugs me tightly with her small frame, and I leave them on Cedar, and they disappear behind the leaves. It’s just me then, on a bus back to the city, my heart filled with new memories, part of me aching for an easier life, the other yearning for more excitement and change.