Lack of Options

Moving to a small town I thought that things would be different for me and my little family. The quiet atmosphere, the small community feel and the absent traffic jams had a wonderful appeal to it. What we got turned out to be something quite different entirely. Driving through town we all had a sense of excitement flowing through our veins, it was a new place to grow. The children would have a good education, close friends and a county living. I felt that at the moment we had made the beat decision. Following the road that lead to our new home took us to the other side of the tracks of the railroad that cut through town. The surrounding area began to change, industrial buildings came in to view, they were old with a touch of recent. The buildings along the roads looked as if they had seen better days with a very few new ones mixed in. This was going to take some getting use to for all of us. Turning on to a small road, it was the last stretch we had left, the sight of newer paved road gave us hope until the houses began to line up. Looking out of the window it began clear that people on this road could be bad news. Finally we reached or destination. A place of wide open spaces the gave way to a forest of the unknown, a place that adventure could be found.

On the days that followed we began to come up with ideas how to turn this place into a place that we could call home. Walking along the river we delighted in watching the children run and play. The fresh air gave them a more energy then they knew what to do with. My husband through himself in work around the farm, bring it back up and running. Hope shined through as jobs were found and income started to come in. Days turned in to weeks and then the weather began to change as well as attitudes towards our family coming here. People around town noticed new comers were here and their feeling were made clear, we were different and came from a place unknown to them. Big city folks was what we became, different way of thinking we had. I had to become careful when I told people where we were from, making sure that I didn't say where I grew up.

The few people I had the chance of speaking to had no idea of the world that laid beyond the town and didn't care to ever find out. They looked at me with a strange point of view and grew cold quickly, this person was from the outside world. I couldn't help but have a sad feeling for them, they hadn't seen the places that I grew to love and that's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I began to miss the place that we called home for the last three years and I saw it in my family's faces as they spoke of it as well. As if on que, the person we had come to help here to help decided to voice how he felt, but not to me, to others. Listening to the conversation feelings began to break and my decision formed. We were not wanted here but now we were stuck, in a town that couldn't stand the thought of outsiders and with a person who didn't want the face his own mortality. The place where we thought would call home is very different now, feeling have changed towards one another and a person that I held dear to my heart has gone sour. Listening to his opinion about the world he thinks is out there but not allowed to voice my own, because of a tiny fear that we could be thrown out on to the streets.