I began my life in this house when I was only 4 years old
Just barely old enough to remember painting the walls space blue, adding the constellations to my new world
Just barely old enough to remember my brother and I fighting over the top bunk
That ended up giving me nose bleeds from the ceiling heat
As I grew I can remember our 12 inch TV
I can remember watching Jurassic Park on VHS practically religiously
I recall nightmares, and sneaky late nights watching Cartoon Network in near silence.

I was in middle school, and no longer wanted to share my room with my older brother
My parents, unable to afford a bigger house with more than but two bedrooms, created a nook for my now grown brother to live in, with nothing but make-shift walls
Leaving me alone in this room I'd grown up in
I remember being unable to sleep that first night by myself, even if my brother had been right across the house.

I was in highschool and I started having boys and friends over
I started receiving noise warnings late at night from my overworked and underpaid parents after a bout of laughter

I started becoming depressed.
My room, still painted space blue became a black hole
As I laid in my bed all night long, never once blinking
Never once flinching against the pain eating away at my stomach like a parasite
Until it became nearly impossible to bare any longer.

I started seeing my therapist and she saved the life of an afraid 15 year old
The posters in my room turned into images of bands from generation's passed
The blood washed away and I could sleep in my bed again.

I was 16 years old and infatuated with a boy until he touched me the wrong way
And it stained my childhood bed, once the bottom bunk
Which quickly went from a twin to an untouched queen.

I was 18 years old and afraid of living within these four walls my whole life.
The space blue paint taunted me every time I stepped through the old splintery door
My best friend and I painted the walls the color of sunshine in one night in hopes to erase the bad dreams and even worse realities lived here.

I am 20 years old and in a few days I am moving into a new room, into a new home of my own
Away from the warm bathtub that held me when I was ill.
Away from my loving mother who ran her finger through my hair as I cried.
Away from my father and his drunken snores every night in front of a silent television.
Away from my brother and his passionate new discoveries often shared with me.
Away from the stove that helped me create comforting meals that nourished my body for 16 years.

And I am afraid.