6 to 8- Germany
8 to 9- Maryland
10 to 11- Ireland
11 to 13- France
13 to 16- Italy

These are all the places that I have lived, since I was six-years-old.

Ever since I was six, it seemed as if I would find a dandelion, a shooting star, a plain star, and make every wish that I could, to go home to Grana. Finally, at nine, I guessed it was worthless wishing...it seemed they never came true.

Finally, after adjusting to moving, on my sixteenth birthday, we were gathered in our living room with my friends and others when my dad walked up to the center of the room with Tamilia, whom was grinning shyly. Everyone stared at my dad. "Everyone, we would like to make an announcement," he said pausing as everyone took a glance at one another and back at my dad, "first we would like to thank you for coming to celebrate our daughter's birthday and our other daughter's seventeenth birthday," he said giving a weepy smile.

I looked at my sister from the corner of my eye, she was sitting quietly in her chair staring at my dad and her mother. Tamilia took a breath. "We never thought that we would ever get two great role models for daughters," she said wiping her eye with a tissue.

Everyone looked at my sister and me and clapped. As the noise died down, my dad cleared his throat. "I have been offered another mission," he said as Tamilia clutched onto his hand tightly, "More like we have though," my dad said looking at each of his daughters and his wife in the room. "Tamilia and I think it's time to go back to the States," he said causing everyone to gape at my father including my sisters and I.

Demetri

“Demetri,” a voice called from behind me as I walked through the neighborhood to get home. I stopped and turned around. James was running towards me, “Man, can’t you wait at all?”

“I did wait,” I said smiling.

James rolled his eyes as he continued to walk with me. We walked slowly up the walk talking about nothing. As we walked, a moving truck passed us. James stopped talking in mid sentence and looked at me, “Think we’re getting new neighbors?” James asked as we walked a bit faster.

“Duno, doubt it though. The Mazes are probably just getting new furniture.”

“I doubt it,” James said as we finished walking up the hill. We stopped dead in our tracks.

In front of the house next to mine, two moving trunks sat idle in front of the old Bianchi home. No one had lived in that house since Jennifer moved into her new home with her new husband, and that was ten years ago.

“I didn’t know it was for sell,” James asked looking at me. “I didn’t even see a for sale sign,” he muttered.

I looked at the house where a two women in their fifties and one woman that looked to be in her early eighties were getting out of a car. The oldest lady hobbled over to the porch with a walker and sat on the wicker swing. She closed her eyes as if remembering something or savoring the memories. One the women in her fifties went over to the swing and sat with her. They started to talk.

I stood still and watched them. The lady in her eighties was small, frail looking with many wrinkles on her face. She had powdery white hair that was pulled into tight curls on top of her head. The woman in her fifties or forties had dark brown hair pulled into a braid and was thin. She had an olive skin tone and smile immensely.

“Come on, Demetri,” James said as we took off down the street.

I took one last look at the women talking to one of the movers before going into my house.