Branches Book

BRANCHES

escape. Amelia is slowly opening the door. Now she is exiting the house. Now she is passing the hill outside her window. She has passed. She has succeeded. After Marie went to bed, I crawled out of my bedroom and walked into the outdoor air. I actually passed the uncomforting thorns of wheat and collected my favorite vegetables. Within three hours, I secured a ticket to Charlotte, and my hair began to flow with the wind from our bus. The people around me seemed a bit suspicious that such a juvenile girl was travelling alone. However, concerned with their own travels, they eventually reasoned that I must look young for my age. While I was on the bus, I passed the moving fields of corn and the growing patches of soybeans. The sky was very lively, as it often showed a bright, blue color. However, the smoke from other cities began to approach, and my journey became more difficult. Only my diary could calm me. The days of corn, carrots, and clear skies are over. Now, there is only sadness and despair. I miss my house, the people I knew, and all the interesting moments I have experienced. They are no longer here. These changes bring back memories of my sister. Don’t think about the drought, don’t ask me what happened, and eat your dinner, she had said. She didn’t seem to be concerned about my need to know. Therefore, I refuse to return home, and I will continue with my journey. When our bus stopped to load more people, a man sat down next to me. He introduced himself as George and asked why I was alone. “Where are your parents?” he added. I explained my reasons for travelling to Charlotte, and the man smiled and said, “I can help you.” His offer seemed to be very good. George and his friends promised to look for my parents in exchange for help. They wanted to have a successful business, but simply couldn’t find anyone to pack sandbags to deliver these goods. Amelia, I thought, could be that person. The conversation about the deal followed. I made my decisions very quickly, but I was somewhat satisfied with the agreement. I would be going to a new residence. It’s somewhere in Georgia, they said. I simply needed to create bags of sand and collect them in my apartment. I wasn’t looking forward to my work, but the offer allowed me to begin looking for my parents. So I went with them. Soon, I will reach the sycamore branches, palm trees, and oak trunks. This will be my new home, and I will stay there. I do want to go back to Missouri, but I also remember why I left. I must keep moving. The palm trees sifted in the wind, matching the serenity of the rising sun. Below, grains of sand rolled with the waves and scattered onto the floors of the apartment. I sprawled my blanket outside the property, sat down, and enjoyed the view of sycamore trees between the apartment building. My new

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