stereo hearts – gym class heroes ft. adam levine
Valentina Grace, 23
Valentina, or sometimes referred to as Val, is the only one out of the group that doesn't have a husband in the army. She doesn't even have a boyfriend. But little 'Valentina Fashionista' as many people have sung, just seemed to fit right in with all of the other girls. She's lived in New Haven all of her life, and it's the place that she wants to stay. But everyone knows that it's only a matter of time before she gets sick of Connecticut and escapes to the big city, where everyone knows that she's meant to be. But it's something that's holding her back -- or maybe it's some/one/.
“Val? Honey are you in here?” The older woman’s voice asked.
“Yes mom, I’m here.” I answered my eyes surveying my childhood home.
It had changed now, but I could still remember exactly where the ping-pong table used to sit and where the old broken TV sat that my dad promised he would repair. He never got around to it. The walls that used to be a bright red were now a simple beige, it was the new fashion my mother liked to tell me but I had always enjoyed bright colors more.
“Oh, honey, do you like it?” My mom asked. I could hear the desperate plea in her voice. I couldn’t disappoint her I understand why she had changed it all up, to completely forget that a family had lived there. She was moving, but I was not.
“I love it mom.” I lied, because sometimes you just have to.
She brightened up at my statement, although beneath the façade of smiles I could see how broken and hurt she was. She knew I was lying.
“Val, just tell me you’ll be alright. You can come stay with me if you want, I’ll be living next to your ‘favorite’ aunt in Richmond.” My mother joked, but I could hear the need in her voice.
I laughed, “Yeah I’m sure Auntie Em, and I would just love to see each other every single day.”
“You’re right, what was I thinking?” My mom asked, but I knew she wanted me to stay with her. Especially since Mathieu and Isabella had already left and started their own families.
“Mom, you’ll be okay and the family that will move in here will love this house, just like we did.” I assured her. I took one last look around, I hadn’t lived in the house for years now, but that didn’t change the way I felt about it.
“Oh sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug then and I couldn’t help but start to tear up.
“Mom you’ll be okay right?” I asked her.
“Of course, Val, you don’t need to worry about me.”
The streets were the same streets I had grown up on. The same streets I remember riding my bike down and when I first learned how to drive and almost ran into our neighbor’s garage. It was the also the same streets that I had walked down countless summers.
I arrived at my small house finally. I had a house not an apartment because I wanted to work with it; also as sad is it is I had a room I wanted to dedicate to my closet / my art room. I’m in love with fashion and every kind of art.
My warm colored walls greeted me with hello.
The mail was dropped off on the ground. Picking it up, I stopped. The one letter I got every week lay there exposed and beckoning. It was grabbing for me and I stood up straight, clutching the envelope in my hand.
My desk wasn’t far away and I reached for the drawer as I hurriedly dropped the letter in along with all the rest. Never read like all the others.
I collapsed then, crying. My mom asked me why I couldn’t move, and I hadn’t been able to tell her.
Who would he send letters to, if I moved?
[soo this was bad story, but they’ll get better! Comment ‘letters’ if you read all!]
@curious-and-young and @buds-over-studs