How would you feel if everything you owned was burned? Your pets, your favorite lamp, all of your clothes, and your brand new kitchen? There I was standing in my driveway, Hammer Restoration boarding all of the windows: quiet tears running down my face as I knew that in that moment I had no home. Questions started racing through my mind as I wondered where we would go. Are we going to stay at Grandma’s? How will I get ready for school? How are we going to shower? A rush of emotions hit me. I was helpless, overwhelmed, and melancholy, everything and anything that I wanted was obliterated. Gone. Destroyed. Never to see my face again. I wanted so badly to go home. As my family surrounded me, all I could think about was; where do we go?

This all happened in the afternoon, I, being so lucky, got to sit through the rest of my boring classes before the final bell released me from the place that felt like prison. As I walked to my dad’s car in the large line of cars, it smelled like grass, almost like freshly mowed lawn, even though it did rain yesterday. I saw my whole family piled into a black, chevy silverado “crew cab”, that smelled like black ice, like one of those little tree fresheners from the car wash… I was so tired and ready to go home.

“ Okay,” I said jumping into the truck with my backpack in hand, “ we can go home now.”

“We aren’t going home Kaitlyn.” said my sister in that choked up voice she has when she’s about to cry.

“What?” I respond confused, but calm.

“Kaitlyn.” My mom addresses me, “ Earlier today, the heat lamp from Tessa’s puppies was knocked over, causing a fire to start.”

“Oh My God!” I say frantickly, “Tessa? Ella?” A million ideas of what could’ve gone wrong race through my head like a tornado, bringing on a headache.

“ No sweetie.” My mom said full of sorrow. “The whole house was burned, we are going to go there now, Hammer Restoration “cleaned” the house.”

I sat there unable to process this news. I didn’t want to think about it. The 6 minute car ride home was completely silent, other than the radio playing soft country music. We got to the house and couldn’t even park in the driveway because a large type of backhoe with the words ‘New Holland’ plastered all over it, was sitting in the middle of it, so we parked at the neighbors.  When we got out it smelled like fire, not like the enjoyable summertime bonfire smell that stays with your clothes, but a malodorous burning scent filled the air and your nose. A guy that smelled like the fire in some sort of fire-proof Carhartt full body suit, was telling my dad that the fire created too much damage for the house to even be salvageable, hence the backhoe. The one large size tool that would take my home-since-birth right out of my life. Shortly after the life-altering news was dealt, my grandparents arrived, heartbroken, and sorrowful.  They offered to take me and my siblings shopping to “distract us from what’s really happening”, were they stupid? A 9-year-old girl won’t forget the moment where all her “friends” (stuffed animals) and blankies where burned to the point of ashes.

After all seven years of having to tell people why my family moved to Freeland, and why I had to painfully switch schools. I’ve learned that even though you may not be happy with leaving a place that’s home, or may feel like home, sometimes the outcome may be better than staying in the place that’s unsafe or “bad” for you. I have grown so much since Jan. 28th, 2011. My family’s so much closer, and we are so happy to live in our large, open, and secluded home. Whenever I do tell this story, I expect people to be more shocked, but no one could ever have the right reaction unless they have experienced the same thing, and know the pain, stress, and problems this causes.