I come to the end of the park. I am now by all the houses all neatly attached together in a neat row with an equal patch in front of each. The colour of the brick is still the same old buff shade. I look left and instead of seeing lots of trees in the distance I see a huge mansion with towering iron black gates that stick out like a sore thumb. I start to walk towards it and I stare blankly at all the house windows. I see a family enjoying dinner together and I watch them enviously. The father’s eye catches mine. I think he might be someone I know so I wave, but in response he gets up and shuts the curtain in my face. I am now by the mansion. I look up. It’s the same size as 4 of the normal houses on the road. It looks so out of place in such an average road like this one. I stare wondering why on earth anyone would allow, or want, such a monstrous building to be built in area like this one.
I hear a hoot from behind me. I turn and I see an impatient old man in a Rolls Royce glaring at me waiting to drive through the huge gates. I quickly move out of the way and bump into a boy my age. I vaguely recognise him but now I know it’s been too long for me to be able to recognise anyone. He looks into my eyes and for a second something resembling a smile comes onto his face.
“ Hey. Things have changed around here since you left” I’m shocked that he recognises me that I remain silent. However hard I search I just can’t put a name to his face.
“That was Fred. Do you remember him?” He asks me sadly.
All I can think about was how he remembered me so I ask him, almost afraid of the response,
“ How do you remember me?”
He laughs softly.
“How could I forget? Peoples eyes never change. You look so similar yet completely different.”
I nod feeling the same about him. Then I realise who he is and who the man in the car was. I must have shown it in my eyes for then he said,
“He drove all of us crazy. You know how it was. It happened a few years ago. Mum died. He drove her to it and he received so much life insurance and used the money to get that thing built. Not a penny went to me or Vanessa but on his new son with his new wife. Now he’s trying to drive out everyone who opposes him and that awful house.”
He spat the last three words out in disgust.
“I don’t have a father any more.”
I wanted to say so much to him, I wanted to ask him so much but I didn’t know where to begin. He nodded to someone behind me. I turned around and saw no one.
“Under the bush” he whispers so quietly that I feel tense.
Under the bush was a head poking out with his thumb and first finger curved round to form an “O”.
“Why did you come back here?” he asked with a sense of urgency and I knew he had to go soon. I could sense it was something big but I just didn’t know what. I didn’t know how to reply to that.
“Because…”Words failed me. I just didn’t know why I had suddenly decided to come back after 5 years. I hadn’t kept in contact with anyone still living here and I had nothing here. Only memories.
He smiles at me.
“ There’s nothing for you here. It’s no longer the happy neighbourhood that it once was. It’s ruled by the people with money and no opinion. Everything, everyone has changed.”
“The why haven’t you changed?”
“Oh, I have. Everyone changes. Don’t come back here again because next time there will be nothing here at all. Go quickly. You don’t want to be seen round here tonight.”
I know what he means but I don’t want to believe him. He pushes me into an alleyway. Our eyes meet and I remember how we used to be such good friends and I feel so sad because I know that this is goodbye. At least when I left last time, I managed to convince myself and everyone that I would come back and visit soon.
I can see the old newsagent coming up in front of me, where I was really good friends with the owners and sometimes they would give me free sweets, but instead of seeing a welcoming open door with the rows of shelves of food, I see a broken window covered up badly with a square of dirty cardboard. I walk nearer and nearly tread on broken bits of glass. In the middle, in miniscule writing, is a notice informing that the shop will not be opening again after repeated thefts and attacks on the owners. I move on, no longer surprised by anything here. I arrive at my old house.
I stare at my old house and reflect on my times there. The gold number 5 on the door has loosened itself from one of its screws and is just hanging there like an aimless wiggle and is covered in brown rust. The front garden is no longer a tidy patch of green grass but an incredibly bad half attempt at flower beds. It is just a lump of messy soil with a few pathetic buds attempting in vain to escape from the mass of soil and crawling worms. I can see the window of my old bedroom but I can’t see past the wooden blinds now hanging there. I strain my eyes and try to see past the heavy navy blue curtains but the living room is protected by the cover of the thick material. Suddenly the door opens and a man comes out. He stares back. Now I realise that I am the stranger here.