Sofia Hargis-Acevedo

As I flipped through the images that swept through the storm of chaos, I saw her: the happiest girl I could have possibly become.

Alas, here I stand.

Here I stand, in the midst of it all. Everything here is happening all at once. The manic chaos is circling me like a storm, tightening its walls around me, trying to suck me in. Everyone is moving on, moving forward, leaving this moment behind.

Yet here I stand, in this moment, one final time.

I will move forward, I will move on, I will leave this moment behind me, just not yet. I still have to make my final memory, say my final words, mark my farewell.

And amidst this panic, amidst this eagerness to remember everything at once, my mind hones in on the most wonderful moments of my wonderful life.

I peer into the storm roaring around me and see images come to fruition; and for the first time in my life, time appears to freeze. 

I begin to see my arm reach for these images, lightly grazing them to feel how I felt so long ago, before everything goes away. Filing through twelve years of flickering memories sends a jolt up my fingers, through my arm, and directly into my heart. I feel it grow in size until it squeezes in my chest. I can’t help but smile as I watch my life unfold before my eyes.

I watch the little girl I used to be sprint to the playground every recess. I saw her quickly join her friends as they would conjure up their own little worlds to get lost in; some days, she was a super-secret spy, and others, a big sister in a friendly game of House. She would embody these characters as if her life depended on it. In her mind, there had to be some sort of backstory to make it all believable; she made sure it was clearly evident during her playtime. She would run across the wood chips until her legs became sore and she was gasping for air. On these days, she would ask for a second carton of chocolate milk from her favorite lunch lady.

I turn to a new image, and I now watch as the girl I grew into latches onto every little happy moment. Her laughs echo through the halls she once walked through. Her cheers rang loud and clear as she jumped around the student section like a little orb of light. Her smile shone brighter as she watched her best friend share with their Spanish group what was in her lunch for the day. I watched her spirits brighten as she took a seat in the same booth at the same fast-food restaurant with the same three people she could never get tired of. 

I watch the girl I grew up to be turn into the happiest girl alive.

Within the madness swirling around me, I feel my gratitude for the past four years begin to bubble up inside of me, hot with this sudden burst of eagerness to let everyone who I have ever crossed paths with know how much I thank them for playing a part in my wonderful story.

All of a sudden, however, as I begin to gain some sort of closure, the storm around me vanishes. The images disappear from beneath my fingers, and time begins to turn once more.

Time.

It is such a complex concept. One moment, I am fourteen years old with an effervescent mind stuffed with ideas and dreams, and the next, I am eighteen years old leaving room 139, the room that housed every one of my dreams achieved and goals met.

I would stay longer, but I have written every word I needed to write. I have told you all that you have needed to hear. And now, here I stand, ready to walk away. Ready to move forward. Ready to move on. My heart still squeezes for you, but I have reached my final moment, and I must mark my farewell.

I have never been too keen on endings. It’s especially hard to let go of something I love so much—but how lucky am I to have lived through such a beautiful story with you.

Believe me when I say that it has been more than a pleasure.