It's Blog Chain time again, and this time the topic comes from Jon who asked us to the following:
Imagine the home(s) where you grew up, and start drawing a floor plan. As you draw, memories will surface. Grab onto one of those memories and tell us a story.
I consider my childhood home this fabulous old tutor I lived in until I was in high school. It sat on a corner lot and had more charm and character than most homes. My mom, my only parent in those days, was a bit of a bohemian-wanna-be-gypsy. And that bohemian-gypsy style found its way into the home. We had an art room that boasted a macrame wall, a kitchen will geometric shapes painted all over the walls, a private patio that I claimed as my "fort", and a partially finished attic straight out of some scary story. Yep, the house had loads of charm. And yes, I have often thought of using it in a story, and I likely will.
But that isn't what this prompt it about - this is about memories. Our childhood memories in our home.
Hmm....I have lots of memories to choose from, but the one that most readily comes to mind is likely the most geeky of them all. So, consider yourself warned.
The movie that meant the most to me, however, was the middle movie - Empire Strikes Back. I saw that movie 30+ times, wrote articles for my church and for school about the mythology and quest motifs, memorized every line. In fact, I still remember most of the lines.
Well, one day after seeing the movie yet again, I went to bed, thinking about the tragic reality of facing Darth Vader and how hard that must have been for Luke. I thought about Yoda, and the wise Zen-like beliefs he held. I thought all of this as I drifted off to sleep in my bedroom of my childhood home.
My room was in the front of the house, and my bed was next to the front windows. They had curtains and gave me a perfect view of the streets next to my home. At the foot of my bed was a fish tank filled with angel fish. And in the corner, diagonally from the bed, was my bedroom door.
As I drifted off to sleep, dreams overtook me, throwing me into the world of Leia and Han, Luke and Yoda. And of course, Darth Vader. While I no longer remember most of the dreams of that night, I do remember waking up (or at least, thinking I had woken up). I remember sitting up in bed, my breath coming in fast short spurts. And I remember feel afraid. Very afraid.
I sat, trying to shake of the veil of sleep, but my nerves wouldn't relax. My fear wouldn't yield. I stretched my neck, my back, my shoulders, all the while reminding myself that my fear wasn't real. I had been dreaming, nothing more. I moved the sheer curtain and stared to the street.
There, in the middle of my quiet suburban neighborhood, was Luke's X-wing fighter. I blinked once, twice, three times, jabbing my palms with my nails. I looked again. The X-wing was still there. My brows furrowed as my brain tried to embrace the hallucination.
And then I heard it, the deep rumbling sounds of breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
My flesh erupted in a flurry of chills. I slowly turned my head, looking towards my door. A massive figure covered the doorway, cloaked in shadow, blending into the darkness of my room.
My heart pounded too loud in my ears. My mind spun away from me. And still his breathing continued...
There you have it, one of my most vivid memories. Even now, sharing the story with you, I can remember my sense of fear as I think of his breathing. In and out. In and out.
What is one of your childhood memories?
For more walks through more memories, check out PK's post from earlier today and Tere's post tomorrow