User blog:Dragonheart2375/How Familiar

The stars glittered and sparkled in the sky as the motor of a car revved down the street. All was quiet, a few crickets chirped, the breeze blew through the old trees, trees that were once young.

A neighborhood of old houses, houses that once sparkled and held parties, was now left abandoned.

No lights were turned on, except for one lonesome house, with the lights turned on in one old room.

In there sat a man, old photographs in his hands, remembering good times spent in this old neighborhood.

He looked down at a picture of his friends, all smiling and laughing, back when they were teenagers. Back when they all went to concerts and had late night adventures, back when they liked getting lost in the woods for no reason at all.

He held in his hands a photograph of his best friend, messy brown hair, glowing brown eyes, an irritable personality but a warm smile. Right next to him was a younger version of him, messy blond hair, warm blue eyes, a huge grin.

And where had he gone now? His friend, long forgotten, had slipped past him and was never seen again.

The man gathered the photographs, and looked around the room. His room.

Everything that was once laid out across his room, splayed across his walls, spread on the floor, were now in boxes.

And in his hands he held the photographs of past years, and he smiled as tears fell down his face.

He walked out of the house, held the keys in his hand, and sighed into the cold December air.

The neighborhood that once felt familiar and kind and welcoming now felt distant and old as time.