Where is Home?

So a little while ago I started posting a mini series called Where is Home? and I stopped posting about it because it got personal. It got personal because it was something happening in my life. The story became a memoir and although life is never over until you die, this chapter of my life is over. And I happened to have documented that chapter.

Where is Home? is around 100 pages. It’s sporadic and takes place over the span of six months in twenty-two small chapters. It’s about going through my parents separation and finding myself through this difficult time.

I’m working on a cover at the moment and will continue to post updates about my process.


Where is Home?

Screen Shot 2016-02-12 at 6.19.48 PMOkay so I haven’t posted anything about Where is Home? in a while and there many reasons for that. All the reasons boil down to one thing: it got personal. Where is Home? just started as a little exercise to express myself like any other writer. I currently have thirteen parts to it and it’s become something much bigger than I imagined. I may post things in the future but as for now it’s taking a hiatus.

I plan on it becoming a novella, but I really have no idea when it could end. I’m just going to keep writing. It could still be a novella though, becuase each chapter is less than 1000 words. My normal goal for chapters is 3000 or more. I’m hoping it’ll be a novella, but like I said, I have no idea when this will come to an end.

I literally write things as they come.

Where is Home?: Considering the Time

Mom: What are you doing today?

Me: I’m probably seeing Drake.

I finish getting ready and grab my car keys. The dogs are outside so they don’t follow me to the door. I tell Dad I’m going out and I leave.

All I know is that I’ll be dreading coming back. Sometimes when class lets out I sit in my car for an extra thirty minutes just to prolong the hopelessness my father will feel when I stick my key in the door.

Drake is the only one home when I get to his house. I walk through his front door and find him in his room. His room is pretty small, but he has a room all to himself so I’m still jealous.

“Where do you want to eat?” I ask.

Drake is a big guy, but he’s like a giant fluffy bear. His heart is the size of my head and there’s never a time when he’s not smiling. He’s my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him.

“How about Burger Fi? I’ve not been there yet.”

“I’ve been once. It’s really good. I gotta get gas on the way though.”

“That’s fine.” He slips his shoes on and follows me to my car.

We strap ourselves in and I stick the key in the ignition. “Now, fair warning, my car is starting to break again so don’t be alarmed when it slips.”

He holds a wary smile. “Thanks for that.”

I laugh and turn the key. I stop at Wawa for gas. Drake gets out with me. “Why are you getting out?”

“I feel weird sitting in the car.”

I shrug. It’s a fair excuse. I pull out Mom’s credit card and slide it in the slot. “So my mom gave me her card.” I punch in the zip code.


“So I don’t have to pay for gas when I need it.”

He chuckles. “Lucky.” I unscrew my gas cap and slide the nozzle in the car. “Regular?”

“Yeah.” He pushes the button for me.

I lean against the car. It’s now or never. He’s going to bring it up. I stare at the gas cap. “So the update with my family is that my mom hasn’t come home for like three weeks.”

I glance at him as his brows raise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

I check the gas meter. Not quite near twelve gallons yet. “I mean, it’s whatever.”

After gas, food, and several stores, we head back to Drake’s house. It’s about eight o’clock and everyone is home when we walk through the door.

They all announce that Drake is home and they say hello to me. Drake’s brother, Chris is in Drake’s room.

“Hey guys,” Chris says. “Load up.” He tosses us Nerf guns and throws darts at us.

“Wait I’ve never done this before.” I grab several bullets and run after Drake toward the kitchen. I take cover behind the wall. Drake loads up his shot gun with six bullets. I stick my bullets in the three openings on the nozzle. “How do I fire this?”

“Just pull the lever down.” He pulls it down for me and cocks his gun.

“Are you guys ready?” Chris yells.

“Ready,” Drake replies.

“Three, two, one…”


I stick my key in the door and push it open. My dogs greet me with wagging tails and smiles. They jump on me before I shut the door. “Guys, get down, get down.” I kick the door shut.

I walk through the house. “Oliva.”

She’s not in our room, but in the adjoining bathroom. “Yeah.”

“I had a Nerf gun fight.” Dad walks into the room.

“Isn’t it fun?” she says thorugh the door.

“Dude, it’s so much fun. I want one now. Drake said that when we get our own place, Nerf guns are on the list.”

“I’m on your team,” Olivia says.

Dad walks out of the room. I follow him. “So my car is getting bad again,” I say.

“How bad?”

“It’s like squealing and sliding again.”


“Yeah I’ve never heard it do it before. It’s kinda scary.”

“I’ll take it out for a drive tomorrow.”

I walk into the kitchen and open the cabinet. “Where’s Georgia?” Georgia is my youngest sister. She’s normally home by now, considering the time.

Dad answers from the living room, “She’s still at school, helping out.”

I grab a bag of chips and walk back into the living room. “I’ll get her.” Dad nods, engrossed in the TV. It reminds me of when I used to read a lot. But then my reality finally became something worth experiencing so I stopped reading. I’ve started to read again.


Where is Home?: Feelings Leads to Crying

Drake: Are you okay? You seemed a little upset when you left last night.

Me: Yeah. It’s just my parents.

Drake: You can always talk to me if you need to.

Me: I know.

I’m hungry. I look through the cabinets and the fridge. I open the freezer. I close the freezer. I walk back to the living room and sit on the couch. My computer sits beside me. The TV is off. Music plays from Dad’s Pandora.

I’m hungry. I need to eat but I don’t know what to eat. I need to eat.

My phone buzzes.

Drake: Hey you wanna join me for a drive to Jack’s campus?

I stare at the phone. Do I?

I don’t. But how do I tell him that? I’m such a shitty friend. I set my phone on the computer. It’s an hour there and an hour back. That’s two hours and that’s not even counting the time in between.

And he’ll want to talk when we’re alone. I don’t want to talk because talking leads to feelings and feelings leads to crying.

Drake: You don’t have to. I’ll understand if you don’t.

Good ‘cause I don’t want to go.

Drake: I’m leaving in an hour so no rush.

But that just makes me feel rushed.

I walk to the kitchen. I open the cabinet. I close the cabinet. I open the fridge. We mostly have drinks in the fridge. I stare at the milk exceptionally long. Milk makes me sick though. I close the fridge.

I walk back to the living room and sit on the couch. My phone blinks with a new message.

Drake: Final answer?

Me: I’m not going to go. I’m sorry.

Drake: Damn. Ok.

Me: I’m sorry.

Drake: Ok.

I though he said he’d understand if I decided not to go. I toss my phone on the other side of the couch. I’m such a shitty friend. I’m a terrible person.

I slide my laptop on my lap. I check my email. I have a few emails. I click through them in seconds and I’m left bored again.

The dogs run past the back door.

My phone rings. I slide my laptop over and stand. I grab my phone.


“Is your mom home?” Dad asks.


“Have you heard from her?”


“Oh, ok.” He pauses. “I’m probably going to have a few beers with them when they get back.” He’s babysitting the neighbors kid. I would’ve done it, but I hate the child.

“How is the little monster?”

“He’s sleeping right now. I’ve been watching cartoons.”

I laugh. I don’t even remember the last time I watched a cartoon. I’m glad the kid is asleep though. He has too much energy for Dad to handle.

“Don’t put the top chain on.”

“Okay. I won’t.”



I sit down and sigh. I set my phone on my computer.

I’m hungry. My phone buzzes.

Dad: Did you text your mom when we got off the phone?

Me: No.

Dad: She texted me saying she’s not coming home.

I figured she wouldn’t be. She didn’t last week. She only visited for two days. Then left. Same thing with this week. She only comes on her days off.

Me: Oh.

Dad: I’m going to watch The Martian

Me: Again?

Dad: Yes again on their giant tv


Where is Home?: Headphones

5:23 PM

I slide my laptop into my bag. I unplug my charger next.

“What do you have going on today?” Mom asks. She leans on the doorframe.

“School.” I grab my journals and toss them in. I grab my book and slide it in. Mom stares at me.

I grab my water and DS and toss them in as well. I slip on my jacket and pull a beanie over my head.

I pass Mom and head into the kitchen. Her footsteps follow. “What time are you off?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug, grabbing a few bags of chips. I walk back to my room. I toss in my ID and make sure I have my debit card as well as Dad’s credit card.

I shove the food in my bag and zip it up.

“Have you and Dad talked? And I don’t mean about having coffee.”

Mom sighs. She looks away as I shove on my shoes. “We have.”

“Like a proper talk? One that lasts more than fifteen minutes?” I straighten up. I slip on my glasses and toss my bag over my shoulder. I grab my car keys.

“We have.”

I look at my shelf one last time. I can’t forget anything. I give my room a once-over. I take my water bottle and walk out of the room. “You should stay tonight and talk longer. Stop avoiding your problems.”

“I’m not avoiding my problems.” She follows me. “I’ll do what I want.”

I set my hand on the handle. “I have to go.”

“Drive safe.”


I open the door and walk to my car.


6:08 PM

I sit outside my class. I set my bag on the floor.

My classmate looks over at me. “Hey Diana.”

“Hey, did you finish the assignment?” I pull out my computer and open up Netflix to finish up my show.

“Yeah. I took the quiz too. It wasn’t too hard.”

“That’s good to hear. I haven’t started it yet.” Unzipping my bag, I search for my headphones. I pull out my snacks and dig my hand inside. “The hell?” I pull out my stuff: my journals, my pen, my book, everything. I keep searching until everything is on the bench beside me.

“I left my headphones at home.”

“That sucks,” she says.

It really does because now I have to go back.


Where is Home?: Empty Spot in the Driveway

The street lights pass over me. The glow of the lights expose me every second. My music thumps in my ears. The rhythm distracts me, but keeps me focused on the road. I tap my thumb on the wheel; not quite on beat, but it keeps me doing something.

I stop at the stop sign. My house is on a corner. There are two cars at the house. My sister and Dad’s car. The spot next to my Dad’s car is empty; it awaits the arrival of Mom’s car. I pull onto the grass.

I turn the key in the door and open it. My dogs greet me. I scruff their fur up.

“Who’s that?” Dad says from the other room.

“It’s me,” I reply.

I walk into Dad’s office. He glances over at me from his computer. “Have you heard from your mom?”

“No. Have the dogs been fed?”

“I’ve not fed them.”

“Olivia, did you feed the dogs?” I call into the house.

“No,” she replies.

I turn from the office door. “Diana,” Dad says. I face him and rest my head on the door frame. “Do you think she’ll come back?”

“I don’t know. I have to feed the dogs.” I look at my boot. Derek, my dog, looks up at me. He wags his tail.

I turn to leave again, when Dad stops me again. “I’m cleaning up the house. I’m changing. Things are going to change here.”

“Tell her that then.”

“She won’t listen.”

I sigh. “Then show her.”

“She won’t come home.” He pauses. “Do you think she still loves me?”

“I don’t know.” Tears prick my eyes. If loving someone is waiting for their car to fill in the empty spot in the driveway, then I don’t ever want to love someone. “I have to feed the dogs.”


Short Stories: A Series

So tomorrow is Sunday and I haven’t uploaded a ‘Short Story Sunday’ in a while. I came to this idea just minutes ago. But I’m going to write a mini series. Or its going to be something like that. But I’m going to post the first (and only) three tomorrow. They will be posted in chronological order. They hopefully won’t be the only three, but so far its all I have. I write them as the inspiration comes to me. I hope you all like them.