1. the smell of the garage
  2. the trees in the backyard that I believed were a forest
  3. the long, skinny hallway back to mine and my sister's room
  4. the small foyer that I imagined was a ballroom
  5. the popcorn ceiling in the frog
  6. the cobwebs in the door
  7. the darkness in the morning
  8. the worry while hiding away in the bedroom on Thanksgiving
  9. the strange excitement of planning our escape; the taste of freedom thick on my tongue
  10. the hurt in my heart when we left my dog behind; fear for what would happen to her
  11. the hurriedness of packing our things together without my father knowing; he came up that morning as we were pushing clothes into our backpacks, I felt like I was in a movie
  12. the stinging in my heart when I said goodbye to my father thinking it would be the last time I saw him; but still understanding it was the right thing to do
  13. the ride out of the driveway with fear and relief; I should have realized that even though it was the end of one thing, years would follow of suffering