Every day as I passed through that hallway I saw the word, "Kesling". I was at Ben Franklin, then. Not Kesling. They're separate schools in different cities. They play each other in sports, though. Something I learned later.
When I first went to the school I looked at the sports in the handbook and who they played. I saw Kesling in cross country and that was it. I told my mother, "They don’t play Kesling in track." Track is my sport. It would have been fun to compete against my friends on the track team.
She told me, "I bet they do. I mean, they can’t list every school in there, you know."
At first I hadn’t believed her; then I saw it. In the hallway there is a wall full of sport information. I looked at their opponents and at the bottom was...Kesling.
"Home," I had said.
I was unhappy here. I had little friends, but I had lots at Kesling -- the best school ever, my home. I missed my home, seeing my friends every day, and my grandma who works in the kitchen. I loved that place, and because of my father I had to give it all away. He kicked us out of our home because we couldn’t pay. But my mom says we only left because of the divorce.
But that was the past. I had moved on and thrived in my new home. Ironically, we moved back to my “home”. But it’s so unfamiliar to me now. The place I once hated is my home now, and this place is just a shell of the past.
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