Original Writing (2) by Catherine Baty
Natasha had only lived in the house on Agoho road for two years out of her hectic, unsettled life but already it felt like her only home. She looked out of her window at her neighbour dancing around in the dark room opposite and, though normally she found this extremely entertaining, now she looked at her in sorrow, knowing it was probably one of the last times she’d get to watch it. Natasha looked at the large apple-green trees in front of her neighbour’s window, their broad branches and limitless leaves seemed to stretch on forever. Through the branches she could just see the road, somebody was walking a black Labrador, its fur shining in the mid-day sun.
Her room was quiet except for the disruptive noise of the air conditioner, but she didn’t notice it, it had now become so normal to her that she didn’t like not having it on because it would be too quiet. She walked over to her bed and sat down on it, she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving this room ever again. She loved the lime-green walls, the mint-green wardrobes, the glossy wooden floor, the flickering light, the smell of lavender from her shower gel, everything about it was so unique, and such a big part of her that she’d feel incomplete without it. Memories came flooding back to her, memories of the most trivial things; like the way the bathroom mirror clouded-up when she got a shower, or the way it was hard to open one of her wardrobes because the door was bent, or all the memories she had in her room from when her friends had come over. All the things she thought of tore her up inside, they made her feel irrepressibly happy yet, at the same time, made her feel uncontrollably depressed.