Post by Baylee Rice on Sept 10, 2018 20:02:19 GMT -5
I sat on the bus bench and browsed the internet, looking for the house in her photo. The photo of that old house that my mom had claimed was the one she grew up in. The house that was supposed to be here in Cleveland. Her web search was for "historic homes in Cleveland, OH" It yielded lots of results and now I was busy going through the 30+ pages of old houses looking for the one in my picture.
Then, I saw it.
There, on my tablet screen was the picture. Rather, it was the house. In living, vivid color. Karr Manor. My mouth hung open. There it was. I couldn't believe it. I clicked on "get directions" and a map appeared on my screen.
My heart was thumping in my chest so hard. Was this place really my mom's childhood home? What if I got there and some old lady answered the door and had no idea who I was, or who my mom was. What if I get there and the family looks nothing like me or mom and I find out that she lied to me all this time.
I had to calm myself. The nearby digital marquee on a bank was going haywire. I was losing control of myself and I needed to reign it in. I took in a deep breath and brought myself back down. Calm. Collected. Steady.
Rising to my feet I followed the directions, on foot, across the city to the large, gated house. Luckily for me the huge front iron gates were open and I was able to walk right up to the front door.
I examined myself before I rang the bell. I was in jeans and a tank top. My tattoo visible on my left bicep. The tattoo that I'd gotten at sixteen when I'd finally gotten mom's permission. Permission to get a tattoo ONLY if it was this one. So far it was one of three tattoos. I also had my obligatory triple moon tattoo that most witches get, located on my lower back - a "tramp stamp", as well as the Mandarin kanji for Serenity on my right bicep.
With a deep, calming breath in I pushed on the pearlescent button beside the door and listened as a rather charming song echoed out into the foyer. Hopefully I'd get some answers today. One way or another.
Tag Ryann Karr
Then, I saw it.
There, on my tablet screen was the picture. Rather, it was the house. In living, vivid color. Karr Manor. My mouth hung open. There it was. I couldn't believe it. I clicked on "get directions" and a map appeared on my screen.
My heart was thumping in my chest so hard. Was this place really my mom's childhood home? What if I got there and some old lady answered the door and had no idea who I was, or who my mom was. What if I get there and the family looks nothing like me or mom and I find out that she lied to me all this time.
I had to calm myself. The nearby digital marquee on a bank was going haywire. I was losing control of myself and I needed to reign it in. I took in a deep breath and brought myself back down. Calm. Collected. Steady.
Rising to my feet I followed the directions, on foot, across the city to the large, gated house. Luckily for me the huge front iron gates were open and I was able to walk right up to the front door.
I examined myself before I rang the bell. I was in jeans and a tank top. My tattoo visible on my left bicep. The tattoo that I'd gotten at sixteen when I'd finally gotten mom's permission. Permission to get a tattoo ONLY if it was this one. So far it was one of three tattoos. I also had my obligatory triple moon tattoo that most witches get, located on my lower back - a "tramp stamp", as well as the Mandarin kanji for Serenity on my right bicep.
With a deep, calming breath in I pushed on the pearlescent button beside the door and listened as a rather charming song echoed out into the foyer. Hopefully I'd get some answers today. One way or another.
Tag Ryann Karr